THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 


TULLIUt  P.  WREDEH 


THE    TRUTH 


The  Truth 


A    PLAY    IN    FOUR    ACTS 


By 
CLYDE     FITCH 


NEW    YORK 
SAMUEL   FRENCH 
PUBLISHER 
24  WEST  220  STREET 

Reprinted  by  permission  o 

LONDON 
SAMUEL  FRENCH,  LTD. 
26  SOUTHAMPTON  ST. 
STRAND 

'The  Macmillan  Company 

THE  TRUTH 


ACT  I.    AT  THE  WARDERS',  NEW  YORK 
Thursday  Afternoon. 

ACT  II.    AT  THE  WARDERS'. 

Saturday  Afternoon,  just  after  lunch. 

ACT  III.    AT  STEPHEN  ROLAND'S,  BALTIMORE. 

Saturday  Night. 

ACT  IV.    AT  STEPHEN  ROLAND'S. 
Monday  Morning. 


vii 


THE  PERSONS  IN  THE  PLAY 


WARDER. 

ROLAND. 

LINDON. 

SERVANT  AT  THE  WARDERS'. 

BECKY  WARDER. 

EVE  LINDON. 

LAURA  ERASER. 

MRS.  GENEVIEVE  CRESPIGNY. 

MESSENGER  BOY. 


Produced  in  Cleveland,  Ohio,  October,  1906, 
and  later  played  at  The  Criterion  and  Lyceum 
Theatres,  New  York,  with  the  following  cast :  — 

Warder William  J.  Kelly 

*Roland J.  E.  Dodson 

Lindon George  Spink 

Servant  at  the  Warders' Hodgson  Taylor 

Becky  Warder Clara  Bloodgood 

Eve  Lindon Mrs.  Sam  Sothern 

Laura  Fraser Elene  Fraser 

Mrs.  Genevieve  Crespigny Zelda  Sears 

Messenger  Boy Frederick  Harrison 


*  Played  in  New  York  by  William  B.  Mack,  and  also  by  John 
Emerson. 


Produced    at   the   Comedy   Theatre,   London, 
April  6,   1907,  with  the  following  cast:  — 

Warder Allan  Aynesworth 

• 

Roland Dion  Boucicault 

Lindon Dawson  Mil  ward 

Servant  at  the  Warders' Horton  Cooper 

Becky  Warder Marie  Tempest 

Eve  Lindon Grace  Lane 

Laura  Fraser Sybil  Carlisle 

Mrs.  Genevieve  Crespigny Rosina  Filippi 

Messenger  Boy Donald  Calthrop 


ACT  I 

At  MRS.  WARDER'S.  An  extremely  attractive 
room,  in  the  best  of  taste,  gray  walls  with  dull 
soft  green  mouldings,  old  French  chintz  curtains, 
furniture  painted  to  match  the  walls  and  covered 
with  the  same  chintz.  Some  old  colored  engrav 
ings  are  on  the  mantel  shelf  and  a  couple  of 
eighteenth-century  French  portraits  on  the  watt. 
On  the  Left  is  a  mantel,  and  near  it  a  large  writ 
ing  table  against  the  back  of  a  low  sofa  which 
faces  the  audience;  on  the  table  a  telephone;  an 
arm-chair  and  a  small  table  on  the  Left;  a  Baby 
Grand  piano  in  the  upper  left  corner  of  the  room. 
Some  consols  and  tables  in  the  room;  four 
windows  at  the  back,  through  which  one  sees  the 

B  I 


2  THE    TRUTH 

park.     Doors,    Right    and    Left;     books,  photo 
graphs,  flowers,  etc.,  on  the  tables  and  consols. 

A  smart,  good-looking  man-servant,  JENKS,  shows 
in  MRS.  LINDON  and  LAURA  FRASER.  The 
'  former  is  a  handsome,  nervous,  overstrung 
woman  of  about  thirty-four,  very  fashionably 
dressed;  Miss  FRASER,  on  the  contrary,  a 
matter-of-fact,  rather  commonplace  type  of  good 
humor  —  wholesomeness  united  to  a  kind  sense 
of  humor.  MRS.  LINDON  is  the  sort  of  woman 
warranted  to  put  any  one  on  edge  in  the  course 
of  a  few  hours'  consecutive  association,  while 
friction  with  Miss  FRASER  is  equally  certain 
to  smooth  down  the  raw  edges. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Coming  in  to  a  chair  near  the 
Centre  with  quick  determination.]  You  have  no 
idea  when  Mrs.  Warder  will  be  in? 

SERVANT.  No,  madam. 


THE    TRUTH  3 

MRS.  LINDON.    She  was  lunching  out? 

SERVANT.  Yes,  madam. 

LAURA.  [With  a  movement  to  go.]  Come ! 
She  may  be  playing  bridge  and  not  come  home 
for  hours. 

MRS.  LINDON.    [Firm,  though  irritable.]  I  will 

wait   till   half-past  .five.    [To   SERVANT.]   If   Mrs. 

• 
Warder  comes  in   before  that,   we  will  be  here. 

[Nervously  picks  up  check-book  from  the  writ 
ing-table,  looks  at  it  but  not  in  it,  and  puts  it 
down. 
SERVANT.  Very  good,  madam. 

[Goes  out  Left. 

LAURA.     [Goes   to   EVE.]    My  dear,  you   must 
control   yourself.     That   man,   if   he   has   half   a 
servant's  curiosity,  could  easily  see  you  are  ex 
cited. 
MRS.  LINDON.  Yes,    but    think !    She's    been 


4  THE    TRUTH 

meeting  Fred  probably  every  day  for  the  last 
two  months,  although  she  knew  I  had  left  his 
house,  and  always  pretended  to  me  she  never 
saw  him! 

[Sitting  beside  the  writing-table. 
LAURA.    [Sitting     Left.]   You     shouldn't     have 

come    here    at   once.     You    should    have    waited 

• 
till  you  had  time  to  think  over  your  information 

and  calm  yourself  a  little. 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  couldn't  wait !  Becky !  One 
of  my  oldest  friends !  One  of  my  bridesmaids ! 

LAURA.   What! 

MRS,  LINDON.  No,  she  wasn't,  but  she  might 
have  been;  she  was  my  next  choice  if  any  one 
had  backed  out. 

LAURA.  Probably  Fred's  appealing  to  her 
sympathy,  —  you  know  your  own  husband  ! 

MRS.  LINDON.    [With  a  disagreeable  half -laugh.] 


THE    TRUTH  5 

Yes,  I  know  him  better  than  she  does !  What 
I  don't  like  is  her  secrecy  about  it  after  I'd  made 
her  the  confidante  of  my  trouble ! 

LAURA.   I  thought  /  was  that? 

MRS.  LINDON.  You  are  —  another !  But  you 
mustn't  forget  that  I  have  gone  to  Becky  in  hys 
terics  and  begged  her  to  make  it  up  for  me  with 
Fred. 

LAURA.   Were  you  perfectly  frank  with  her? 

MRS.  LINDON.  Perfectly!  I  told  her  the  truth, 
and  more  too !  I  told  her  I  loved  Fred  in  spite 
of  his  faults  —  Good  Heavens !  if  a  woman  had 
to  find  a  faultless  man  to  love !  —  I've  asked  her 
advice. 

[Rising  nervously  and  going  to  the  sofa. 

LAURA.   You  haven't  taken  it ! 

MRS.  LINDON.  That  doesn't  make  any  differ 
ence  !  Who  ever  does  ?  [Sitting  on  the  sofa.}  She 


6  THE    TRUTH 

owed  me  her  loyalty  instead  of  flirting  with  Fred 

behind  my  back. 

[She  opens  the  cigar  box  on   the   writing-table 
behind  her  and  then  bangs  it  shut. 

LAURA.  Perhaps  she's  really  trying  to  make 
peace  between  you  in  her  own  way! 

MRS.  LINDON.  Does  it  look  like  it?  Actually 
telling  me  yesterday  she  wouldn't  trust  herself 
in  his  presence  for  fear  she'd  lose  her  control  and 
tell  him  what  she  thought  of  him !  —  and  all  the 
time  she  had  an  appointment  to  meet  him  this 
afternoon  —  in  the  Eden  Musee,  if  you  please ! 

LAURA.    [With  comic  disgust.]   Oh!     Horrors! 

MRS.  LINDON.  Yes,  in  the  chamber  of  them! 
If  that  isn't  compromising! 

LAURA.   Eve ! 

MRS.  LINDON.  And  Tom  Warder  so  nice! 
Everybody  likes  him! 


THE  TRUTH  ^ 

[Picks  up  stamp  box  and  bangs  it  down. 

LAURA.  Including  Becky.  That's  the  point. 
Becky  loves  her  own  husband.  What  does  she 
want  of  yours? 

MRS.  LINDON.  She  loved  Tom  Warder  when 
she  married  him,  but  that  was  in  1903  !  Besides, 
Becky  always  liked  having  men  fond  of  her  whether 
she  cared  for  them  or  not. 

LAURA.    Nonsense ! 

MRS.  LINDON.  She's  what  the  French  call  an 
"  allumeuse "•  —  leads  them  on  till  they  lose  their 
heads,  then  she  gets  frightened  and  feels  in 
sulted  ! 

LAURA.   But  you  claim  she  does  care  for  Fred ! 

MRS.  LINDON.  My  dear,  a  magnetic  man  like 
Fred  has  a  way  of  winding  himself  around  a 
woman  and  .  keeping  himself  wound  as  long  as 
he  wishes  !  even  when  she  doesn't  wish,  — look 


8  THE    TRUTH 

at  me !    I'd  give  anything  to  throw  him  off  for 

good,  but  I  can't  stop  being  in  love  with  him ! 

LAURA.  [Who  has  moved  over  to  the  chair 
beside  the  sofa,  pats  EVE'S  hand.]  Poor  old  Eve ! 
Well,  when  she  comes,  what  are  you  going  to  do? 

MRS.  LINDON.  Give  her  one  more  chance  to 
tell  me  the  truth !  I'll  ask  her  outright  when 
she  saw  Fred  last. 

LAURA.  But  if  she  keeps  on  with  her  "bluff" 
of  not  seeing  him,  you  can't  tell  her  she  lies  with 
out  making  a  horrid  scene,  and  what  good  would 
that  do? 

MRS.  LINDON.  Exactly !  She'd  never  acknowl 
edge  she  was  lying  but  just  go  on !  I  may  appeal 
to  Tom  Warder  himself! 

[Rises  and  goes  to  mantel,  looking  at  the  fty-leaves 
0}  two  books  on  a  table  which  she  passes. 

LAURA.  No! 


THE    TRUTH  g 

MRS.  LINDON.  Why  not?  We've  been  friends 
since  babies. 

LAURA.   You  wouldn't! 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  don't  accuse  Becky  of  any 
thing  dreadful !  Besides,  it  will  be  for  his  good 
too,  as  well  as  mine,  —  he  knows  Fred,  and  I'll 
wager  anything  he'll  be  as  eager  as  I  to  stop  any 
excess  of  friendship  with  him.  [Goes  up  to  the 
window.}  Sh !  here  she  is !  and  a  man  with 
her ! 

LAURA.    [Rises,  excited,  and  joins  her.]   Who? 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Going  to  the  other  window.] 
I  can't  see. 

LAURA.  [Joining  her  at  the  second  window.} 
Suppose  it  should  be  — 

MRS.  LINDON.  Exactly !  If  she  hears  I'm  here, 
she'll  never  let  him  in.  [She  starts  with  a  new 
idea  and  goes  to  the  door  Right.]  The  window  in 


io  THE    TRUTH 

that  hall  juts  out;  perhaps  we  can  see  the  front 

door  from  there.     Come  quickly! 

[Tries  to  pull  LAURA  out  Right. 
LAURA.   I  don't  approve  of  what  you're  doing 
at  all. 

MRS.  LINDON.   Oh,  come ! 

[They  go  out  and  close  the  door  behind  them. 
[The  SERVANT  shows  in  BECKY  and  LINDON, 
Lejt.  BECKY  is  a  pretty,  charming,  volatile 
young  woman,  sprightly,  vivacious,  lovable. 
She  is  dressed  ultra  smartly,  and  in  the  best 
0}  taste.  LINDON  is  dapper,  rather  good- 
looking,  though  not  particularly  strong  in 
character,  and  full  of  a  certain  personal  charm. 
He  also  wears  very  fashionable  clothes.  He 
is  a  man  whose  chief  aim  in  life  is  to  amuse 
himself. 
SERVANT.  Mrs.  Lindon  and  Miss  Fraser  were 


THE    TRUTH  .II 

waiting    to    see    you,    madam;    they   must    have 
gone. 

BECKY.  [With  a  humorous  raising  0}  the  eye 
brows  and  a  look  to  LINDON.]  Oh !  —  I'm  so  sorry ! 

[The  SERVANT  goes  out. 

LINDON.    Gee !    what  a  narrow  escape. 

LAURA.  [Off  stage  Right,  pleading  loudly.] 
Eve !  Eve  ! !  Come ! ! ! 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Off  stage  Right,  loudly.]  I  will 
not.  I  will  run  my  own  affairs  my  own  way. 

BECKY.  [Who  has  heard  this,  with  an  amused, 
mischievous  expression.]  They  are  there !  Do 
you  suppose  they  saw  you? 

[They  lower  their  voices  slightly. 

LINDON.  Well,  —  Eve  can  see  through  most 
things,  but  not  through  the  walls !  Good-by. 

[He  starts  to  hurry  out,  but  BECKY  stops  him. 

BECKY.   You  must  come  back !     That's  what  I 


13  THE    TRUTH 

brought  you  home  with  me  today  for  —  to  talk 
about  Eve.  This  estrangement  has  gone  on  long 
enough.  I've  come  to  the  conclusion  you're  as 
much  to  blame  as  she  is,  —  or  more. 

LINDON.   I  like  that  from  you! 

BECKY.  I  mean  it,  and  if  she  wants  you  back, 
you've  got  to  go. 

LINDON.   Well,  let  me  get  a  cocktail  first. 

BECKY.  I'm  serious. 

LINDON.   So'll  I  be  if  Eve  comes  in  and  catches 

me. 

[Going. 

BECKY.  [Going  with  him.}  I'll  let  you  out  — 
but  I  expect  you  here  again  in  half  an  hour.  Do 
you  understand?  [They  go  out  Lejt.  Off  stage.] 
You're  to  come  back  at  six. 

LINDON.    [Off  stage,  at  a  distance.]  All  right. 

[EvE  comes  in  excitedly  jrom  the  Right. 


THE    TRUTH  13 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  think  it  is  Fred !  Watch 
from  the  window !  I'll  stay  here  in  case  Becky 
comes  in.  [She  comes  to  the  writing-table.}  I'd 
like  to  scratch  her  eyes  out ! 

[LAURA  comes  in  and  goes  to  right  of  the  sofa. 
LAURA.   It  was  Fred. 

MRS.  LINDON.    [Gives  a  tigerish,  half-controlled, 
hushed  cry  of  rage.}   The  wretched  little  beast  I 
[BECKY  comes  in  with  a  start  of  surprise.     She 

beams. 

BECKY.  My  dears !  What  a  pleasant  surprise ! 
Why  didn't  Jenks  tell  me  ?  Where  in  the  world 
did  you  drop  from?  Laura,  darling! 

[She  kisses  LAURA,  who  is  very  unresponsive, 
having  pressed  MRS.  LINDON'S  hand  as  she 
passed  her. 

MRS.  LINDON.  We  heard  you  come  in,  —  we 
thought  with  some  one,  —  and  as  I'm  rather  upset, 


14  THE    TRUTH 

we  went  in  there  till  you  should  be  alone.     If  you 

are  busy,  don't  let  us  interrupt. 

[BECKY   shows   that   she   is   relieved   when   she 
hears  they  don't  know  FRED  was  there. 

BECKY.  O  dear,  no,  I'm  not  busy.  I  came 
home  alone,  —  you  must  have  heard  me  talking 
with  the  servant.  I've  been  playing  bridge  since 
luncheon. 

[BECKY  and  LAURA  sit  on  the  sofa. 

MRS.  LINDON.   Where? 

BECKY.   Clara  Ford's,  our  usual  four. 

[LAURA  and  EVE  exchange  glances. 

MRS.  LINDON.  Why!  I  saw  her  lunching  at 
Sherry's. 

BECKY.  [Quickly,  after  only  a  second's  hesi 
tation.}  Yes,  she  couldn't  play  to-day,  but  it  was 
her  turn  at  her  house,  so  we  went  all  the  same  — 
and  —  er  —  er  —  Belle  Prescott  took  her  place. 


THE    TRUTH  15 

[Another  surreptitious  look  passes  between  LAURA 
and  MRS.  LINDON. 

LAURA.   Did  you  win? 

BECKY.   Yes,  a  hundred  and  fifty! 

LAURA.   A  hundred  and  fifty?     Good! 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Who  has  seated  herself  in  the 
chair  beside  the  so/a.]  Becky,  Laura  knows  all 
my  troubles;  she's  the  bosom  I  weep  them  out  on. 

BECKY.  Oh,  come,  I've  gathered  a  few  dewey 
diamonds  off  my  laces!  Well,  how  is  Fred  be 
having?  Has  he  shown  any  sign  yet? 

MRS.  LINDON.  Not  one.  I  thought  perhaps 
you'd  have  some  news. 

BECKY.  [Looking  away.]  I?  How  should  I 
have? 

[Leans  over  and  smooths  her  skirt.  MRS. 
LINDON  exchanges  a  look  with  LAURA. 

MRS.  LINDON.   You  said  two  days  ago  for  me 


16  THE    TRUTH 

to  keep  silent  and  wait,  and  Fred  would  make  an 

advance. 

BECKY.  And  so  he  will,  I'm  sure !  unless  you 
do  what  you  threatened.  [To  LAURA.]  I  tell  Eve 
if  she  starts  a  suit  for  separation  or  does  anything 
of  that  sort  publicly,  Fred  may  be  furious  and 
accept  the  situation,  no  matter  how  much  of  a 
bluff  it  might  be  on  Eve's  part. 

LAURA.   Very  likely. 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  thought  perhaps  you  meant 
to  see  Fred  and  have  a  talk  with  him? 

BECKY.  No!  [MRS.  LINDON  and  LAURA  ex 
change  glances,  as  BECKY,  rising,  rings  bell  Right.] 
What  good  would  that  do?  To  have  the  recon 
ciliation  mean  anything  it  must  be  of  his  own 
volition.  He  must  come  for  you,  Eve,  because 
he  misses  you,  because  he  wants  you  back.  [MRS. 
LINDON  joins  LAURA  on  the  sofa  and  talks  in  a 


THE    TRUTH  17 

loud  and  excited  whisper  to  her  as  to  BECKY'S 
very  evident  prevarication.  SERVANT  enters  Right; 
BECKY  speaks  to  him  aside,  amusedly  watching 
them,  and  then  comes  above  table.  As  she  comes 
back.}  Well? 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  believe  there's  another  woman 
in  it! 

BECKY.  [Laughing.]  I  knew  she  was  jealous! 
[To  MRS.  LINDON.]  That's  just  the  sort  of  thing 
that  has  made  quarrels  all  along  between  you  and 
Fred. 

[She  comes  to  her. 

MRS.  LINDON.  Well,  if  you  knew  all  I've  had 
to  forgive  Fred,  and  all  I  have  forgiven,  you'd 
realize  I  had  good  reason  always  for  my  share  of 
the  quarrels. 

BECKY.   Listen  to  me,  Eve.    You're  a  luckier 

woman  than  you  know! 
c 


i8  THE    TRUTH 

MRS.  LINDON.    [Startled.]   How  do  you  mean? 

[LAURA  puts  her  hand  on  EVE'S  shoulder  to 
calm  her. 

BECKY.  Because,  instead  of  having  the  for 
giveness  always  on  his  side,  you  have  the  blessed 
privilege  of  doing  the  forgiveness  yourself.  [MRS. 
LINDON  gives  a  falsetto  snort.}  You  may  smile  if 
you  like  —  . 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Interrupting.]  Oh,  no,  thank 
you.  I  don't  feel  at  all  like  smiling! 

BECKY.  Well,  honestly,  I  envy  you.  [Takes 
EVE'S  hands  in  hers.  MRS.  LINDON  looks  once 
at  LAURA  questioningly,  and  back  again  quickly 
to  BECKY.]  You  know  I  love  Tom  with  my  whole 
heart. —  and  it's  a  big  heart  for  a  little  woman 
—  and  yet  I  keep  him  forgiving  me — forgiving 
me  something  or  other  all  the  time.  I'd  be  afraid 
his  forgiveness  would  wear  out,  only  it's  in  his 


THE    TRUTH  19 

soul  instead  of  his  body,  and  if  our  bodies  wear 
out,  our  souls  don't  —  do  they  ?  Already  at  the 
very  beginning  of  our  life  together  I  owe  him 
more  dear  forgiveness  than  I  can  ever  repay,  and 
believe  me,  Eve,  such  a  debt  would  be  unbear 
able  for  a  woman  unless  she  adored  her  husband. 

MRS.  LINDON.  You've  too  much  sentiment  — 
I'm  practical. 

BECKY.  [Sitting  down  in  the  chair  at  Centre.] 
Does  being  practical  give  you  one-half  the  happi 
ness  my  "sentiment"  gives  me? 

MRS.  LINDON.  Nonsense  !  My  sympathies  are 
with  the  one  who  has  the  forgiving  to  do. 

BECKY.  You  mean,  like  all  selfish  people,  you 
sympathize  with  yourself,  so  you'll  never  be 
happy,  even  if  you  get  Fred  back. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Startled,  angry.]  If?  What  do 
you  mean  by  that? 


20  THE    TRUTH 

[Looks  at  BECKY,  then  at  LAURA,  sharply,  then 
back  at  BECKY. 

BECKY.  [Smiling.]  Say  when  instead!  when 
you  get  Fred  back.  Trust  me,  teach  yourself 
to  be  grateful  that  it  is  you  who  have  to  forgive, 
and  not  the  other  way  round. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Rises,  jacing  her,  almost  tri 
umphantly,  jully  persuaded  that  BECKY  is  in  the 
wrong.]  I  knew  when  I  came  here  you'd  make 
excuses  for  him. 

BECKY.  [Smiling.]  You've  misunderstood  me. 
I'm  trying  to  make  them  for  you. 

MRS.  LINDON.  Thank  you.  You  need  excuses 
more  than  I  do. 

LAURA.   [Rises,  alarmed.]  Eve! 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  am  perfectly  well  aware  that 
I  made  a  very  serious  mistake  in  coming  to  you 
of  all  women ! 


THE    TRUTH  21 

BECKY.  [Rises.]  In  that  case  I  think  it  best 
to  consider  the  matter  closed  between  us. 

MRS.  LINDON.   You  can  think  what  you  please, 
but  I  have  no  such  intention ! 
LAUKA.   Eve ! 

[She  sits  again  on  the  sofa. 

Really  Becky  has  shown  herself  reasonable  and 
kind,  and  you've  said  enough  to-day.  We'd 
better  go. 

BECKY.  I  should  have  to  ask  you  to  excuse  me 
in  any  case,  as  I  have  an  engagement  in  a  few 
minutes. 

[MRS.  LINDON  looks  meaningly  at  LAURA. 
MRS.  LINDON.    [To  BECKY.]   I  intend  to  have 
the  whole  thing  out  now ! 

[WARDER  enters  left. 

[WARDER  is  a  strong  and  sensible,  unsuspicious 
man,  —  no  nerves  and  no  "temperament,"  noth- 


22  THE    TRUTH 

ing  subtle  about    him;  he   is  straightforward 
and  lovable. 

WARDER.   Oh,  excuse  me! 
BECKY.   No,   come   in,   Tom;   it's   Laura   and 
Mrs.  Lindon. 

[LAURA  and  MRS.  LINDON  say  "How  do  you  do," 
as  WARDER  comes  into  the  room.     He  greets 
them  in  turn.     BECKY  writes  in  pencil  on  a 
sheet  of  paper  on  the  desk. 
TOM.   I   wanted   to   ask    Becky  if  she   wished 
to  go  to  a  theatre  to-night. 

BECKY.  Yes,  I  should  like  to.  [She  indicates 
to  TOM  that  she  wants  EVE  and  LAURA  to  go,  and 
having  finished  writing,  comes  to  him.]  I'm  sorry, 
but  you  really  must  excuse  me.  [Slipping  into 
WARDER'S  hand  the  note  she  had  secretly  written.] 
Mrs.  Lindon  and  Laura  are  going.  What  are 
you  going  to  do  now? 


THE    TRUTH  23 

[MRS.  LINDON  looks  again  meaningly  at  LAURA. 

WARDER.  I  thought  I'd  go  round  to  the  club 
till  dinner. 

BECKY.  [Relieved.]  That's  right.  I  shall  be 
engaged  till  half-past  six,  —  er  —  Mrs.  Clayton 
is  coming  to  see  me  about  the  Golf  Club  at  Ros- 
lyn  —  and  —  lots  of  things.  You  needn't  hurry 
back. 

[She  gives  him  an  affectionate  little  squeeze  0} 
the  arm  and  goes  out  Right.  He  looks  down 
at  the  paper  slyly  and  reads  it. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Rises  and  goes  to  TOM.]  Tom, 
if  you've  nothing  in  particular  on  at  the  club, 
would  you  give  me  half  an  hour? 

LAURA.  [Rises  and  goes  to  EVE.]  Eve,  you 
haven't  the  time  yourself;  you  must  come  with 
me. 

WARDER.   [Suppressing  a  smile  as  he  finishes 


24  THE    TRUTH 

reading  the  note,  he  is  a  little  embarrassed.]  Well 
—  really  —  Eve  —  I  don't  know,  —  I'll  tell  you 
how  it  is  — 

MRS.  LINDON.  Oh,  I  don't  mean  here !  I 
know  Becky  wrote  you  a  note  telling  you  not  to 
let  me  stay,  didn't  she? 

WARDER.  [Laughing.]  She  did  —  you  see,  she 
has  an  engagement.  [Reading  from  the  paper, 
good-naturedly.]  "Get  rid  of  Eve,  I  want  the 
room." 

MRS.  LINDON.   At  six  o'clock. 

[Glances  meaningly  at  LAURA. 

WARDER.   [Casually.]  Is  it? 

MRS.  LINDON.   To  see  Fred  in! 

LAURA.   Eve  !  be  sensible  ! 

WARDER.  No,  it's  for  Mrs.  Clayton  about 
Roslyn. 

MRS.  LINDON.   Then  why  must  she  be  rid  of 


THE    TRUTH  25 

me?  Georgia  Clayton  and  I  are  the  best  of 
friends,  and  I  have  as  much  to  do  with  Roslyn 
as  Becky. 

WARDER.    [Still    pleasantly.]   I    suppose    Beck 
has  a  good  reason,  if  she  cared  to  tell  us. 

MRS.  LINDON.   I  know  Becky  has  an   appoint 
ment  here,  at  six,  with  Fred. 

LAURA.   You  don't  know  it,  Eve ! 

MRS.  LINDON.   I  do. 

WARDER.    [Still  pleasantly.]   In   any  case   that 
is  Becky's  and  Fred's  business,  isn't  it? 

MRS.  LINDON.   You  know  Fred! 

WARDER.   Yes ! 

MRS.  LINDON.   Well? 

WARDER.   You  don't  want  my  opinion  of  Fred, 
at  this  late  day !     I  also  know  Becky ! 

MRS.  LINDON.    Becky    and    Fred    meet    every 
single  day. 


26  THE    TRUTH 

LAURA.   [Interpolates.]   She  thinks  so. 

WARDER.   What  are  you  talking  about? 

MRS.  LINDON.  What  I  know/  And  if  you'll 
wait  here  with  me  a  few  minutes  now,  in  spite  of 
what  Becky  said,  you'll  s,ee  Fred  and  not  Mrs. 
Clayton  arrive. 

WARDER.  If  your  husband  is  really  coming,  it 
was  probably  to  spare  you  that  Becky  spoke  of 
Mrs.  Clayton,  and  I  shouldn't  think  of  embarrass 
ing  her  by  waiting. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Disagreeably,  irritatingly.]  Oh, 
you  don't  mind,  then? 

WARDER.  Almost  any  man,  my  dear  Eve, 
would  mind  your  husband  meeting  his  wife  every 
day!  I  only  think  you've  been  misinformed,  or 
only  half  informed,  that's  all. 

MRS.  LINDON.  You  are  aware  that  Fred  and  I 
have  been  separated  for  two  months? 


THE    TRUTH  27 

WARDER.  Yes,  Becky  told  me. 

LAURA.  [Looking  at  her  watch.}  It's  almost  six 
now.  Come,  Eve. 

WARDER.  [Going  toward  the  door,  Left.]  Yes, 
I'm  afraid  I  must  ask  you  — 

[Rings  electric  bell  on  wall  beside  the  door. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Going  to  him.]  Tom,  for  the 
sake  of  our  boy  and  girl  friendship,  walk  home 
with  me,  and  let  me  speak  plainly. 

LAURA.  [On  the  other  side  0}  WARDER.]  Mr. 
Warder,  please  don't  go. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [To  LAURA,  angry.]  What  do 
you  mean?  [To  WARDER,  pleadingly.]  I've  no 
other  man  in  the  world  to  go  to;  I  need  advice. 
Won't  you  give  me  yours? 

WARDER.  [Looks  at  her  a  moment,  hesitates, 
then  says.]  My  advice?  Of  course,  if  you  wish 
that.  [The  SERVANT  appears  in  the  doorway  in 


28  THE    TRUTH 

answer  to  the  bell.  To  SERVANT.]  My  hat  and 
coat  —  and  say  to  Mrs.  Warder  I'm  walking  home 
with  Mrs.  Lindon. 

[He  goes  out  Left. 
SERVANT.   Yes,  sir. 

[Follows  him  out. 

[LAURA  looks  significantly  at  MRS.  LINDON. 
LAURA.   If  you  keep  on,  there  soon  won't  be  a 
soul  left  in  New  York  whose  advice  you  haven't 
asked  and  not  taken! 

MRS.  LINDON.  Well,  it's  my  own  trouble;  I 
can  do  what  I  like  with  it.  What  are  you  going 
to  do  now? 

[She  sits  in  the  armchair  at  the  Left. 
LAURA.   [Going  to  her.]   Don't  tell  him  all  you 
think  you  know  about  Becky. 
MRS.  LINDON.    Think! 
LAURA.  It  will  be  a  very  great  mistake. 


THE    TRUTH  29 

MRS.  LINDON.  Laura,  I'll  tell  you  the  truth; 
I've  had  Fred  watched  by  private  detectives  for 
over  a  month,  and  I  have  a  list  of  dates  and  places 
of  their  meetings  to  more  than  prove  what  I  say. 

LAURA.   How  dreadful  of  you ! 

MRS.  LINDON.  Oh,  wait  till  you  get  a  hus 
band,  and  then  you'll  sympathize  more  with  a 
woman  who  is  trying  to  keep  one ! 

LAURA.   But  these  places  where  they  meet? 

MRS.  LINDON.  Are  respectable  so  far  as  I 
know.  But  daily  meetings  my  dear,  daily  / 

LAURA.   And  you'll  tell  Mr.  Warder? 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  don't  know  yet  how  much  I 
shall  tell.  What  are  you  going  to  do  now? 

LAURA.  Wait  till  to-morrow !  Give  yourself 
time  to  recover,  to  consider. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Simply  repeats.]  What  are  you 
going  to  do  now? 


30  THE    TRUTH 

LAURA.  [Deliberately  crosses  to  the  chair  at 
Centre  and  sits.]  Stay  and  see  Becky. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Rises,  delighted.]  Oh,  do! 
Stay  till  Fred  comes,  and  catch  her! 

LAURA.  No,  no !  I've  finished  with  this  now. 
I  don't  sympathize  with  what  you're  going  to  do. 

WARDER.  [With  hat  and  coat,  in  the  doorway 
Left.}  Ready? 

MRS.  LINDON.  Yes. 

WARDER.   Good-by,  Laura. 

LAURA.  Good-by.  [MRS.  LINDON  goes  out  Left 
with  WARDER.  After  the  outside  door  is  heard  to 
close  BECKY  comes  into  the  room  hurriedly.  She 
stops  suddenly  on  seeing  LAURA,  turns  and  tries  to 
steal  out.  Just  as  she  gets  to  the  door,  LAURA 
catches  her.]  Becky! 

[BECKY  turns  and  their  eyes  meet.  BECKY 
laughs,  realizing  she  is  caught. 


THE    TRUTH  31 

BECKY.    Oh,  you  didn't  go  with  them? 

LAURA.    No ! 

BECKY.    Had  enough  of  Eve  to-day? 

LAURA.   Not  enough  of  you. 

BECKY.  [Sings  instead  of  speaks.]  "Thank 
you !" 

[She  puts  her  arm  around  LAURA,  and  they  sit 
on  the  sofa. 

LAURA.  Becky,  why  won 't  you  be  frank  with  Eve  ? 

BECKY.   I  was. 

LAURA.  No,  you  didn't  tell  the  truth  about  see 
ing  Fred. 

BECKY.   Oh,  that! 

LAURA.   Yes,  that! 

BECKY.  I  may  have  seen  him  once  or  twice, 
that's  all. 

LAURA.  Exactly  what  Eve  says  —  you  don't 
tell  the  truth ! 


32  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  It's  false!  I  never  told  a  malicious 
lie  in  my  life.  I  never  told  a  fib  that  hurt  any 
one  but  myself! 

LAURA.  Tell  Eve  the  truth.  Make  her  have 
confidence  in  you.  She  says  if  you  cross  the 
ferry  to  Jersey  City,  you  say  you've  been  abroad. 

BECKY.  [Laughing.]  Well,  so  I  have/  Laura! 
I'm  doing  my  best  to  make  Eve  happy.  I  can't 
do  any  more  than  my  best,  and  if  I  do  it  at  all,  I 
must  do  it  my  own  way ! 

LAURA.   You've  seen  Fred  to-day. 

BECKY.   No,  I  haven't. 

LAURA.  Becky!  He  came  home  with  you  just 
now! 

BECKY.   What  makes  you  think  so? 

LAURA.   I  saw  his  back  on  the  steps  with  you. 

BECKY.  Oh,  I  see  —  spying  on  me  ?  Well,  you 
made  a  mistake  in  the  back. 


THE    TRUTH  33 

LAURA.   I  know  it  was  Fred  Lindon. 

BECKY.   And  I  know  it  wasn't. 

LAURA.     You're  not  seeing  him  every  day? 

BECKY.  Certainly  not!  But  what  affair  is  it 
of  yours,  if  I  do  ? 

LAURA.  We're  all  friends,  and  you're  making 
Eve  wildly  jealous. 

BECKY.  That  is  entirely  her  own  fault,  not 
mine. 

[The  SERVANT  enters  Left  with  a  bill  on  a  small 
silver  tray. 

SERVANT.  Pardon  me,  madam,  a  man  with  a 
box  and  a  bill  to  collect. 

BECKY.    [Taking  bill.]   A  bandbox? 

[She  opens  bill. 
SERVANT.   Yes,  madam. 

BECKY.  [To  LAURA.]  Oh,  my  dear,  such  a 
duck  of  a  hat !  And  only  sixty-five  dollars.  1 

D 


34  THE    TRUTH 

saw  it  on  my  way  here  and  couldn't  resist  buying 

Are  hats  a  passion  with  you? 

LAURA.   [Uninterested.]  Yes,  rather. 

BECKY.  I  told  them  to  send  it  C.O.D.,  but  I 
didn't  suppose  it  would  come  till  to-morrow  and  I 
haven't  a  cent! 

LAURA.  I  thought  you  said  you  won  a  hundred 
and  fifty  at  bridge? 

BECKY.  No,  no,  my  dear,  you  misunderstood 
me,  I  lost.  [To  SERVANT.]  Tell  the  man  if  he  can't 
leave  the  box,  to  take  it  back  and  call  later;  say 
Mrs.  Warder  is  out. 

SERVANT.   Yes,  madam. 

[Goes  out  with  the  bill,  Left. 

LAURA.   You  said  you  won  at  bridge ! 

BECKY.  Oh,  you  tedious  person !  You  hang 
on  to  anything  like  a  terrier,  don't  you !  I  said  I 
won  because  I  didn't  want  Eve  to  think  I'd  lost; 


THE  TRUTH  35 

I  never  can  bear  to  own  up  I've  lost  anything 
before  Eve.  [Laughs,  pulls  LAURA  by  the  arm.] 
Good-by ! 

LAURA.   I  won't  go  yet. 

BECKY.  [Urging  her.]  You  must.  I  have  an 
engagement. 

LAURA.    With  Fred  Lindon  ! 

BECKY.  It  is  not.  [SERVANT  enters  and  an- 
nounces  "MR.  LINDON."  LINDON  follows  in.  He 
is  surprised  to  see  LAURA,  but  instantly  covers  his 
surprise.  Going  to  LINDON,  quickly.]  Oh,  what  a 
surprise ! 

LINDON.   Surprise?    Am  I  early? 

BECKY.  [Indicating  LAURA.]  Sh!  Yes,  sur 
prise.  [LINDON  sees  LAURA  and  makes  an  amused 
grimace.]  But  I  can  only  give  you  a  very  few 
minutes.  I  have  an  engagement,  haven't  I, 
Laura  ? 


36  THE   TRUTH 

{As  they  shake  hands. 
LINDON.    Oh   hello,  Laura ! 
LAURA.    [Very  dryly.]   How  d'you  do,  Fred? 
LINDON.   How's  Eve? 

LAURA.  [Embarrassed.]  Very  well  —  at  least 
not  very  —  yes,  she  is  of  course  very  well !  She's 
just  left  here. 

[She  adds  this  pointedly. 

LINDON.  Oh !  sorry  I  missed  her !  Give  her 
my  regards  when  you  see  her,  and  say  I'm  glad 
she's  well. 

[He  goes  to  the  piano,  sits  on  the  bench,  and 

plays. 

LAURA.  [Rises  indignant.]  I  shall  do  nothing 
of  the  kind. 

[She  starts  to  leave  the  room.  LINDON  runs  what 
he  is  playing  into  "Good-by,  little  girl,  Good 
by." 


THE    TRUTH  37 

BECKY.   [Offering  her  hand.}   Good-by. 

LAURA.  [Pretends  not  to  see  BECKY'S  hand.] 
Good-by. 

[She  goes  out  Left. 

BECKY.  [Going  to  the  piano.}  They  both  saw 
you  come  back  with  me ! 

LINDON.  [Still  playing,  improvising.  Laugh 
ing.]  No!  Did  they? 

BECKY.  [Laughing.]  Yes,  but  it's  no  laughing 
matter !  Eve  is  jealous. 

LINDON.  [Stops  playing.]  What  right  has  she? 
Did  she  expect  me  to  sit  alone  in  the  drawing- 
room  for  two  months  straining  my  ears  to  hear  her 
ring  the  front  door  bell? 

[He  continues  playing. 

BECKY.  They  know  we've  been  meeting  every 
day,  —  at  least  they  think  so.  Have  we? 

LINDON.   [Still  playing.]  No ! 


38  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.   Yes,  we  have/    Haven't  we? 

LINDON.  [Stops  playing.]  Well,  yes,  if  you 
want  the  truth. 

BECKY.  [Goes  to  sofa  and  sits.]  There's  no  use 
telling  a  story  about  it.  I've  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of,  —  I  did  it  with  the  best  of  motives. 

LINDON.  [Goes  to  BECKY.]  Oh,  don't  spoil  it 
all,  Becky,  with  motives! 

[He  leans  over  the  arm  of  the  sofa  to  talk  to  her. 

BECKY  [Laughs.]  You  know  Eve  mustn't  be 
jealous  of  me! 

LINDON.  [Earnestly.]  Now  you're  not  going  to 
let  her  break  up  our  little  — 

BECKY.  [Interrupting.]  Fred,  how  much  do  you 
like  me? 

LINDON.   [Smiling.]  I  daren't  tell  youl 

BECKY.   No,  I  mean  really ! 

LINDON.   So  do  II 


THE    TRUTH  39 

BECKY.   I  believe  you  are  fond  of  me. 

LINEON.   I  am ! 

BECKY.   And  I  like  you  to  be. 

LINDON.  [Placing  his  hand  on  hers  on  the  so/a's 
arm.]  Because? 

BECKY.  [Slowly  drawing  her  hand  from  his.]  I 
like  men  to  like  me,  even  though  it  really  means 
nothing. 

LINDON.   Nothing? 

[Rather  chagrined. 

BECKY.  [Amused.]  I  like  it  for  myself,  and 
besides  I  think  it's  a  compliment  to  Tom ! 

LINDON.    [Mockingly.]   Oh !  Oh !  I  say !  Becky ! 
[He  moves  to  the  chair  Right  beside  BECKY  and 

drawing  it  nearer  sits  facing  her. 
BECKY.    But  with   you   there    was  a    special 
•    reason. 

LINDON.  [Is  encouraged.  Draws  a  little  nearer 
to  her.]  Yes? 


.p  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  Of  course  you  have  perfectly  under 
stood  why  I've  seen  so  much  of  you. 

LINDON.   You've  been  my  friend. 

BECKY.   I've  sympathized  with  you. 

LINDON.  You've  been  the  only  real  glimpse  of 
happiness  I've  had  for  months  in  my  life. 

BECKY.  Don't  be  rhetorical !  no  man  sounds 
sincere,  when  he  talks  pictures.  I'll  tell  you  why 
I  wanted  you  to  come  back  this  afternoon. 

LINDON.  [Taking  her  two  hands.]  To  make 
me  happy! 

BECKY.  [Pulling  her  hands  away,  and  patting 
his  half  seriously.]  Yes,  [He  leans  over  toward 
her.]  by  making  you  realize  it's  time  you  went  to 
Eve  and  asked  her  to  come  back. 

LINDON.  [Sinking  back  in  his  chair.]  Non 
sense;  Eve's  made  a  row  and  frightened  you. 

BECKY.   How  frightened  me?    I  always  meant 


THE    TRUTH  41 

when  I'd  got  you  where  I  wanted  you,  to  in 
fluence  you  to  make  it  up  with  Eve.  She  adores 
you! 

LINDON.   She  has  an  odd  way  of  showing  it. 

[He  rises  'and  leans  against  the  mantel  beside  the 
sofa. 

BECKY.  You  don't  want  every  woman  to  show 
her  love  in  the  same  way. 

LINDON.  I  don't  want  any  other  woman  to 
show  me  she  loves  me  in  Eve's  way. 

BECKY.  Come  now,  you're  unfair  to  Eve !  I'm 
going  to  sympathize  with  her  a  little.  Granted 
that  she  is  jealous,  granted  that  she  doesn't  always 
control  her  temper !  —  what  woman  worth  while 
does ! 

LINDON.  [Laughing.]  But  she  ought,  to  trust 
me  —  as  you  do. 

BECKY.   [Laughing.]   Oh,   I'm  not  your  wife. 


42  THE    TRUTH 

I  wouldn't  trust  you  for  a  minute  if  I  were  married 

to  you! 

LINDON.   How  about  Tom  ? 

BECKY.   Of  course  I  trust  Tom. 

LINDON.   And  I  trust  Eve. 

[Laughing. 

BECKY.  Oh !  but  it's  not  the  same  thing.  You 
trust  Eve  because  you  don't  care  enough.  I  trust 
Tom  because  —  well,  in  one  little  word,  he  is  per 
fect  and  I  adore  him ! 

LINDON.   Sounds  boring! 

BECKY.  Eve's  proved  she  loves  you  with  a  big 
love!  She's  proved  it  by  forgiveness.  That's 
the  proof  of  a  love  it's  not  easy  to  get  and  even 
harder  to  deserve !  You've  got  it  —  [He  moves 
toward  her.]  we  won't  go  into  the  deserving  part ! 
But  if  only  half  that  she  says  and  one  quarter  of 
what  every  one  else  says  of  you  is  true,  you  ought 


THE  TRUTH  43 

to  go  on  your  knees  to  her  in  gratitude  if  she  is  will 
ing  to  take  you  back. 

LINDON.  [Sits  on  the  arm  of  sofa,  half  laugh 
ing.]  She  will !  She's  left  before. 

BECKY.   You  love  her,  Fred? 

LINDON.   [Casually.]  No,  I  love  you! 

BECKY.  Nonsense!  I  mean  really!  Promise 
me  you'll  go  to  Eve  to-morrow  and  ask  her  to  come 
back. 

LINDON.  [Slides  down  on  to  sofa.]  Not  yet  — 
give  me  another  month ! 

BECKY.   You'll  lose  her ! 

LINDON.  No,  there  are  certain  things  you  can't 
lose  —  try  as  hard  as  you  like ! 

BECKY.   That  isn't  funny. 

LINDON.    She's  been  urging  you  to  do  this. 

BECKY.  Nothing  of  the  sort !  She's  too  proud. 
And  she  mustn't  dream  I've  had  anything  to  do 


44  THE    TRUTH 

with  your  going  to  her.  No  woman  really  wants 
to  accept  her  happiness  like  a  pauper  at  the  Lady 
Bountiful  hands  of  another  woman.  She  might 
think  she  was  grateful  to  me,  but  she  wouldn't  be ! 
With  a  disposition  like  Eve's  you'd  have  another 
quarrel  inside  a  fortnight.  No !  Eve  must  think 
you've  come  to  her  spontaneously  because  you 
can't  live  without  her.  [He  whistles.  She  rises.] 
You  can  whistle,  but  you'll  never  get  another 
woman  half  so  good  to  you  as  Eve!  Make  her 
think  you  want  her  back.  Make  yourself  think 
you  want  her  back,  and  you  don't  know  how  happy 
you'll  be  —  first  in  making  her  happy,  and  second 
in  finding  you  are  yourself. 

[He  takes  hold  of  her  hand;  she  draws  it  away 
quickly  and  sits  in  the  armchair  on  the  opposite 
side  0}  the  room. 

LINDON.   What  are  you  doing  away  over  there? 


THE    7 "RUTH  45 

BECKY.  Oh,  I  thought  it  was  getting  a  little 
crowded  on  the  sofa. 

LINDON.  And  must  I  give  up  my  visits  with 
you? 

BECKY.   Of  course. 

LINDON.  Oh,  well,  if  that's  the  price,  I  don't 
want  happiness,  it  costs  too  much ! 

BECKY.  You  won't  need  sympathy  any  more. 
You  can  write  me  a  little  note  and  say:  "Becky, 
I  thought  I  loved  you,  but  it  was  only  a  heart 
being  caught  on  the  rebound.  Thank  you  for 
being  sensible  and  pitching  the  heart  back ! 
Thank  you  for  seeing  my  real  happiness  was  in 
making  Eve  happy." 

LINDON.   You  know  that  doesn't  sound  like  me! 

BECKY.  Not  like  your  foolisli  old  you,  but 
like  your  sensible  new  you,  who  has  found  out 
you  can  have  a  woman  friend  without  getting 


46  THE    TRUTH 

sued  for  damages,  —  which  has  been  your  usual 

experience,  I  believe! 

LINDON.   Becky!    Don't  rob   the   graves! 

BECKY.  Well,  will  you  go  to  Eve  and  beg  her 
to  come  back? 

LINDON.   [Rises.]  No! 

BECKY.  Fred !  The  price  of  my  friendship 
is  your  peace  with  Eve! 

LINDON.  [Going  to  BECKY.]  But  if  I  consent, 
I  may  come  to  see  you? 

BECKY.  Yes. 

LINDON.  Eve,  my  darling  wife,  forgive  me! 
Come  to  my  arms  and  stay  there  —  for  five 
minutes  —  consider  it  done!  Where,  to-mor 
row? 

BECKY.  The  Metropolitan? 

LINDON.  No,  let  me  come  here  to-morrow, 
and  what  time? 


•   THE    TRUTH  47 

BECKY.  [Rises.]  Four  —  but  to  say  Good-byl 
[She  means  it.]  The  last  visit ! 

LINDON.  Oh !  well,  we  won't  cross  that  bridge 
till  we  come  to  it !  and  I'll  make  you  a  bet  if 
you  ever  do  send  me  away  for  good,  do  you  know 
what  will  happen? 

BECKY.    [Amused.]   No,  what? 

LINDON.  In  a  day  or  two  you'd  send  for  me 
to  come  again  after  all! 

BECKY.    [Laughing.]   Why? 

LINDON.  Because  you  like  me  better  than  you 
think  you  do ! 

BECKY.  [Going  to  the  writing-table.]  Oh, 
really ! ! 

LINDON.  [Following  her.]  Yes,  really!  and 
you  know  —  though  you  may  not  acknowledge 
it  to  yourself,  still  you  know  just  how  strong  my 
feeling  is  for  you. 


48  THE    TRUTH' 

BECKY.  [Turning  toward  him.]  But  I  do  ac 
knowledge  it,  and  I  am  grateful  and  pleased  to 
have  you  care  for  me. 

[Site  pulls  the  chair  beside  the  table  in  front  of 
her. 

LINDON.  [Pushing  chair  away.]  "Care  for 
you!" 

BECKY.  [Pulling  chair  back.]  Yes!  and  I 
want  to  show  my  appreciation  by  making  you 
happy. 

LINDON.  Eve's  jealousy  has  frightened  you, 
but  you'll  forget  it  to-morrow! 

BECKY.  [Really  not  understanding.]  How  do 
you  mean? 

[She  looks  at  him  questioningly,  innocently. 
He  looks  back  knowingly  with  a  half  smile, 
not  believing  her.  A  pause.  WARDER  cornea 


THE    TRUTH  49 

in   Left.    He  looks  from   one   to   the   other, 
then  speaks  pleasantly. 
WARDER.    Oh !    How  are  you,  Lindon  ? 
LINDON.    Good  evening,  Warder. 

[Both  men  stand;   an  awkward  pause. 
BECKY.    [Sitting    in    the   armchair   Right.}   Sit 
down,  Tom. 

[He  does  so  on  the  chair  by  the  table.     LINDON 

sits  on  the  sofa.     A  moment's  pause.} 
LINDON.   Do  you  come  up  town  generally  as 
late  as  this? 
WARDER.   Oh,  no,  I've  been  up  some  time. 

[Second  awkward  pause. 
BECKY.   Did  you  get  the  theatre  tickets? 
WARDER.   No,   I   forgot;     I   didn't   go   to   the 
club.     I'll  telephone    from    here.    [Very  casually. 
Has  Mrs.  Clayton  gone? 
BECKY.   Who? 


50  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.   Mrs.  Clayton.    You  said  — 

[BECKY  interrupting. 

BECKY.   Mrs.  Cl— ?     Oh!    Yes!    She's  gone. 

[Awkward  pause. 

LINDON.   Have  you  been  to  the  club  ?    * 
WARDER.   [Very  casually.]  No,  I  walked  back 
with  your  wife  to  her  mother's. 

[Awkward    pause.    BECKY    and    LINDON    ex 
change  glances.  > .  v 
LINDON.   [Hal/    humorously.]  I    hear    Eve    is 

looking  very  well. 

[Pause. 

WARDER.  By  the  way,  will  you  have  a  whiskey 
and  soda,  a  cocktail  or  something? 

BECKY.   Or  tea? 

LINDON.  Tea?  poison  to  mel  No,  thanks, 
I  must  be  getting  on. 

[All  rise;  then,  after  a  moment  of  embarrassment, 
WARDER  speaks. 


THE    TRUTH  51 

WARDER.  Yes? 

LINDON.  I've  an  early,  melancholy,  bachelor's 
dinner  at  seven. 

BECKY.  It's  your  own  fault!  Think  how  well 
Eve  looks  in  a  dinner  dress,  and  what  a  delight 
ful  hostess  she  always  is. 

LINDON.  Yes,  Eve's  all  right  in  a  crowd ! 
{Shaking  hands.  To  WARDER.]  Forgive  my 
domestic  affairs  intruding.  Mrs.  Warder  has 
been  kind  enough  to  advise  me  a  little ! 
Good-by ! 

[Going. 

WARDER.  I'm  sure  her  advice  is  good.  You'd 
better  take  it! 

LINDON.  Perhaps !  —  but  in  homeopathic  doses ! 
[To  BECKY.]  Good-by !  [To  WARDER.]  Bye, 
Warder. 

[Laughing,    he   goes   out   Left.    WARDER   and 


52  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY,  alone,  look    at   each    other,  —  BECKY 
questioningly,  WARDER  halj  puzzled. 

BECKY.  Well!  Has  Eve  been  weeping  on 
your  bosom,  too? 

WARDER.  No,  I  think  she  scratched  it,  if  she 
did  anything ! 

BECKY.  [Half  amused,  half  worried.}  How  do 
you  mean?  [The  SERVANT  enters  with  a  letter 
which  he  gives  to  BECKY.]  When  did  this 
come? 

SERVANT.  A  little  while  ago,  but  madam  gave 
orders  not  to  be  interrupted. 

[He  goes  out.    WARDER  gives  BECKY  a  quick, 
sharp  look,  which,  however,  she  doesn't  notice. 

BECKY.  From  father!  He  can't  want  more 
money  already! 

WARDER.  You  sent  him  how  much  two  days 
ago? 


THE    TRUTH  53 

BECKY.  [Goes  above  the  writing-table  as  she 
opens  the  letter.]  You  sent  him,  you  generous 
darling,  three  hundred  dollars.  I  had  given  him 
his  allowance  the  beginning  of  the  month. 

WARDER.  And  gone  already !  Of  course,  he's 
been  at  the  races  this  week !  No  more.  Becky, 
—  is  it  true  you've  been  seeing  Lindon  every 
day  lately? 

BECKY.  [While  she  reads  her  letter.]  No !  — 
yes !  [Looks  up  at  him.]  I  mean  no,  certainly 
not! 

WARDER.  [Smiling.]  Which  is  it?  or  do  I 
take  my  choice? 

BECKY.  [With  a  little  laugh.]  I've  seen  some 
thing  of  him.  I'm  sorry  for  him.  —  Father's  in 
more  trouble. 

WARDER.  That's  an  old  story,  and  this  is 
something  new.  Eve  is  jealous  of  you. 


54  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  [Looks  up  at  him.}  Are  you,  of  Fred 
Lindon  ? 

WARDER.  No! 

BECKY.  [Goes  quickly  to  him  and  kisses  him 
and  pushes  him  down  on  to  the  sofa.]  Bless  you ! 
You're  right,  and  that's  my  answer  to  Eve !  — 
Father  does  want  more  money ! 

WARDER.  We  send  no  more  till  next  month, 
not  one  penny.  Come  here!  [He  makes  her  sit 
on  the  arm  0}  the  sofa  beside  him.  She  puts  her 
arm  about  his  neck  and  hugs  him.  WARDER 
continues.}  You  haven't  seen  Lindon  almost  daily 
for  the  past  month,  have  you? 

BECKY.  No. 

WARDER.  You  haven't  met  him  by  appoint 
ment  at  the  Metropolitan,  Eden  Muse"e,  or  any 
such  places? 

BECKY.   Eve's    jealousy    gives    her    the    most 


THE    TRUTH  55 

ridiculous  ideas!  When  I  have  been  with  Mr. 
Lindon,  it  has  been  principally  to  talk  about  Eve, 
and  entirely  with  the  desire  to  try  and  reconcile 
them. 

WARDER.  Grant  that !  But  it's  not  true  about 
all  these  appointments? 

BECKY.   No! 

WARDER.  [With  his  arm  about  her  waist.} 
I  believe  you  love  me  better  than  all  the  world  ? 

BECKY.  Than  all  the  world,  and  every  world, 
and  all  the  planets  put  together,  Mars,  Saturn, 
and  Venus.  Yes.  I  love  you  even  more  than 
Venus ! 

[Laughing  and  giving  him  another  caress. 

WARDER.  I  have  every  confidence  in  you  and 
your  motives.  But  I  have  none  in  Lindon's  — 
so  I  want  to-day's  visit  to  be  his  last,  my 
dear. 


56  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  [Rising,  a  little  uncomfortable.]  All 
right. 

WARDER.  Own  up,  now,  hasn't  he  tried  to 
make  love  to  you? 

BECKY,  [Leaning  on  the  back  of  the  chair, 
facing  him.]  No ! 

WARDER.   Not  a  bit? 

BECKY.  [Smiling.]  Well  —  maybe  —  just  a  tiny 
bit  —  but  not  in  earnest 

WARDER.  [Rising,  angrily.]  I  was  sure  of  it! 
the  damn  puppy !  Becky,  I've  heard  him  swear 
there's  no  such  thing  as  a  decent  woman  if  a  man 
goes  about  it  in  the  right  way! 

BECKY.  Oh,  you  men  are  always  hard  on 
another  man  whom  women  like. 

WARDER.  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about  this 
time,  and  you  don't. 

BECKY.   [With   dignity.]  I   judge   by   his   be- 


THE    TRUTH  57 

havior  to  me.  He  may  have  led  me  to  believe  he 
likes  me  very  much,  — -  he  ought  to  like  me,  I've 
been  very  nice  to  him,  —  and  I  suppose  it  flattered 
me —  [Smiling.]  it  always  does  flatter  me  when 
men  like  me,  —  and  I  think  one  feeling  I  have 
is  pride  that  you  have  a  wife  whom  other  men 
admire  !  If  Mr.  Lindon  has  made  —  er  —  re 
spectful  love  to  me,  that's  a  compliment  to  you. 
[WARDER  laughs,  sincerely  amused.]  But  he  has 
not  insulted  me. 

WARDER.  [Smiling.]  That's  your  fault.  You 
are  the  kiid  of  woman  he  doesn't  believe  exists, 
and  he  can't  make  up  his  mind  just  what  tactics 
to  adopt. 

BECKY.  He  knows  perfectly,  unless  he's  deaf 
and  blind,  that  my  seeing  him  —  a  few  times 
only  —  has  been  solely  to  reconcile  him  with 
Eve. 


58  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  That  sort  of  man  is  deaf  and  blind 
except  to  his  own  rotten  mental  suggestions.  He 
is  incapable  of  believing  in  your  philanthropic 
motive,  so  let  it  go,  dear. 

BECKY.  [Places  the  letter  on  the  writing-table 
and  sits  behind  it.}  Eve  has  frightened  you! 

WARDER.  [Walks  away.}  Not  a  bit;  I  laughed 
at  her  fears  that  you  were  fascinated  by  her  pre 
cious  worm !  But  I  do  consider  that  unwittingly 
you  have  been  playing  a  dangerous  and  —  for 
give  me,  darling  —  [Going  to  her.]  a  very  fool 
ish  game.  Already  some  one  believes  you've 
been  seeing  Lindon  every  day.  You  haven't! 
But  that  doesn't  make  any  difference!  Every 
one  will  believe  you  have  seen  him  twice  a  day  in 
another  month  if  you  continue  seeing  him  at  all. 
No  woman  can  have  the  "friendship"  of  a  man 
like  Lindon  for  long  without  —  justly  or  unjustly 


THE  TRUTH  59 

—  paying  the  highest  price  for  it.  [He  places 
his  hand  tenderly  on  her  shoulder.}  You  wouldn't 
know  what  the  price  was  till  the  bill  came  in,  — 
and  then  no  matter  how  well  you  knew  and  those 
who  love  you  knew  you  had  not  danced,  all  the 
same  the  world  would  make  you  pay  the  piper ! 

BECKY.  I  do  your  sex  greater  justice  than  you ! 
I  don't  believe  there's  any  man,  no  matter  what  he 
has  been,  whom  some  sincere  woman  can't  waken 
to  some  good  that  is  in  him ! 

WARDER.  [Smiling.]  That's  all  right,  but  you 
please  let  Eve  wake  up  Lindon !  [He  moves 
away.]  Had  you  made  any  arrangements  to  ring 
a  little  friendly  alarm  on  him  to-morrow? 

BECKY.  No !  And  that,  of  course,  was  Eve's 
suggestion ! 

WARDER.  Well,  never  mind  so  long  as  it's 
understood  his  visits  here  are  at  an  end.  You 


60  THE    TRUTH 

don't  expect  him  to-morrow,  and  should  he  come, 

you  won't  see  him,  eh? 

BECKY.  Exactly!  [Smiling.]  When  I  told  him 
to-day  his  visits  were  over,  what  do  you  think 
he  said? 

WARDER.   I  couldn't  guess. 

BECKY.  He  said  I'd  change  my  mind  and  send 
for  him ! 

WARDER.  And  if  you  did,  do  you  know  what 
he  would  do? 

BECKY.   No,  —  what  ? 

WARDER.  Consider  it  a  signal  of  capitulation, 
—  and  ten  to  one  take  you  in  his  arms  and  kiss 
you! 

BECKY.   [Rises.]   He  wouldn't  dare! 

WARDER.  I'm  not  sure,  but  at  any  rate  I  am 
serious  about  one  thing  in  this  discussion. 

BECKY.   [Goes   to   him   and   places   her   hands 


THE    TRUTH  61 

lovingly  on  his  arms.]  Our  first  "  domestic 
row." 

WARDER.  \Turns  her  about  and  holds  her  in 
his  arms,  —  she  leans  against  him.]  And  last  ! 

BECKY.  Amen  ! 

WARDER.  [Very  seriously.]  And  I  echo  the 
sentiment,  I  know,  of  every  sane  husband  in 
New  York  —  Lindon's  attentions  to  a  man's 
wife  are  an  insult,  and  as  your  husband  I  won't 
have  them. 

BECKY.  [Leaving  his  arms,  pushes  him  play 
fully  into  a  chair  and  sits  near  him  in  the  corner 
of  the  so/a.]  Well,  give  me  my  woman's  last 
word.  I  still  think  you  are  unfair  to  him  —  but 
I  love  you  all  the  same  !  ! 

WARDER.  You'd  better ! 

BECKY.  I'm  so  afraid  you'll  get  —  not  tired, 
but  —  well  —  too  used  to  me  ! 


62  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  Not  till  I  find  you  twice  the  same! 
Now,  —  what  about  your  father  ? 

BECKY.  He  only  wants  fifty  dollars,  and  says 
he  must  have  it;  let's  send  it. 

WARDER.  No,  that's  the  way  it's  been  always. 
Our  "no"  has  always  ended  "yes,"  so  of  course 
he  hasn't  believed  in  it.  This  time  it  must  stay 
"no." 

BECKY.   [Plaintively.]  You  won't  send  it? 

WARDER.   No,  and  you  mustn't. 

BECKY.  Oh,  I  haven't  got  a  cent.  But  he 
says  he's  in  real  trouble  and  he  must  have  it. 

WARDER.  It's  always  the  same  thing!  And 
we  must  put  a  stop  to  his  inveterate,  indiscriminate 
gambling.  If  we  don't  teach  him  the  lesson  he 
needs  soon,  before  we  know  it  he  will  be  in  real 
trouble  that  ten  thousand  times  fifty  dollars 
mightn't  get  him  out  of. 


THE    TRUTH  63 

BECKY.   But  he  promises  not  to  — 

WARDER.  [Interrupting, .]  My  dear!  He  has 
given  his  word  over  and  over  again,  and  broken 
it  twice  as  many  times !  If  it  isn't  a  race  course, 
it's  a  bucket  shop  —  or  some  cheap  back  door 
roulette  table,  and  it's  got  to  stop !  Stop  now ! 

BECKY.   But,  Tom  — 

WARDER.  [Interrupting.]  Now,  Becky!  You 
know  how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  refuse  you. 

BECKY.   It's  only  — 

WARDER.  [Interrupting.]  You  must  trust  my 
judgment,  and  your  father  must  learn,  and  a  small 
matter  of  fifty  dollars  is  a  good  chance  to  begin; 
it  can't  be  so  very  serious!  so  that's  ended. 

BECKY.  [Half  humorously,  half  discouragedly.] 
Yes,  I  guess  it's  ended ! 

WARDER.  Now,  will  you  try  to  realize  that  I 
only  want  to  do  what's  best  and  right? 


64  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  [Kisses  him.]  Yes,  but  I  can't  help 
feeling  sorry  for  father. 

[Smiling. 

[The  SERVANT  enters  Left  with  a  bill  and  a 
bandbox. 

SERVANT.  Beg  pardon,  madam,  but  the  man 
has  come  back. 

BECKY.  [Takes  the  bill.}  Oh,  my  hat!  Very 
well,  I'll  ring  when  I'm  ready.  Leave  the  box 
on  the  chair. 

SERVANT.  [Puts  bandbox  on  the  chair  at  Left.} 
Very  good,  madam. 

[He  goes  out. 

BECKY.  [Smiling,  embarrassed.}  I'm  nearly  as 
bad  as  father! 

WARDER.   Lose  at  Bridge  to-day? 

BECKY.  No,  I  didn't  play  to-day,  but  I  couldn't 
resist  a  hat,  my  dear,  the  most  adorable  hat' 


THE  TRUTH  65 

[WARDER  laughs  "Oh,  Becky"]  No,  honestly! 
Much  more  beautiful  than  the  one  I  bought  day 
before  yesterday !  I'm  ashamed,  but  I  did  order 
it  to  come  home,  and  I  haven't  a  penny. 

WARDER.    [Teasing  her.]   Send  it  back! 

BECKY.  Oh,  you  wouldn't  be  so  heartless! 
and  what  would  they  think  at  the  shop? 

WARDER.  [Getting  out  his  pocketbook.]  How 
much  is  it? 

BECKY.    [Hesitates  a  moment.]   Fifty  dollars ! 

WARDER.  [With  a  slight  quizzing  look.]  Just 
what  your  father  wants. 

BECKY.  Yes!  Give  the  money  to  father  and 
I'll  send  back  the  bonnet. 

WARDER.  No,  my  darling.  You  know  it  isn't 
the  money  with  your  father,  it's  the  principle  of 
the  thing.  I've  not  got  the  money,  I  must  write 
a  check. 


66  THE    TRUTH 

[He  looks  for  the  check  book.     She  quickly  gels 
a  check  book  from  table  and  hides  it  behind 
her  back. 
BECKY.   Your  check  book's  upstairs. 

[She  rings  the  bell  on  the  desk. 
WARDER.   I  thought  perhaps  yours  was  here? 
BECKY.   No;  mine's  used  up,  as  usual! 
WARDER.   All  right. 

[He  goes  out  Right,  as  the  SERVANT  enters. 
BECKY.   [Opening  the  bandbox.]   Send  the  man 
here,  Jenks. 
SERVANT.  Yes,  madam. 

[He  goes  out,  Left. 

BECKY.  [Takes  out  the  hat  and  looks  at  it  ad 
miringly.]  What  a  duck !  [Heaves  a  great  sigh 
and  puts  it  back  and  starts  to  re-tie  the  strings,  as 
the  MAN  enters.]  I  want  you  to  take  this  back  to 
Mme.  Flora,  and  say  Mrs.  Warder  is  extremely 


THE    TRUTH  67 

sorry,  but  Mr.  Warder  has  taken  a  violent  dislike 
to  the  hat,  so  she  cannot  have  it.     She  will  be  in 
later  to  choose  another. 
MAN.   Yes,  ma'am. 

[He  goes  out  with  the  bandbox,  Left.  BECKY  sits 
down  and  starts  to  write  a  letter  hurriedly. 
WARDER  comes  in  with  check.  BECKY  hides 
the  letter  she  is  writing. 

WARDER.  [Coming  to  the  table.}  Here's  the 
check,  all  but  the  name  of  the  payee.  Where's 
the  bill? 

BECKY.   Make  it  out  to  me,  and  I'll  endorse  it. 
WARDER.   Why  ? 

BECKY.    O  dear !    [Half  worried,  half  smiling.} 
I  told  you  a  sort  of  fib !    The  hat  was  only  thirty- 
five  dollars,  but  I  wanted  the  extra  fifteen  for  some 
thing  else..    Please  don't  be  angry  — 
WARDER.   [Laughing.}  I'm  not  angry,  though 


68  THE    TRUTH 

you  know  I  dislike  even  little  fibs.  Why  didn't 
you  tell  me  if  you're  hard  up?  I'll  give  you  this 
and  make  out  another  for  the  bonnet  shop. 

BECKY.  No,  you  needn't  do  that;  the  man's 
gone  now  for  the  change,  —  I  told  him. 

WARDER.  [Finishes  the  check  and  gives  it  to 
her.]  Becky!  you're  not  going  to  send  this  to 
your  father?  I  forbid  that. 

BECKY.  No,  no,  darling!  [Takes  the  check.] 
And  now  you  get  dressed.  I'll  be  up  in  a  minute. 
You  know  it  always  takes  you  twice  as  long  as  it 
does  me  when  you  wear  a  white  tie !  It's  a  long 
play  and  begins  early. 

WARDER.  I'll  bet  you  I'll  be  dressed  before 
you  start! 

[He  hurries  out,  Right. 

BECKY.  [Rings  the  telephone  on  Jhe  desk.] 
Hello!  Hello,  6304~72d.  [Writes  on  her  inter- 


THE    TRUTH  69 

rupted  letter  with  one  hand  and  listens  with  the 
receiver  in  the  other.  After  a  moment.]  Hello  !  6304- 
7 2<i  ?  Is  Mr.  Lindon  —  yes,  ask  him  to  come  to 
the  'phone  and  speak  to  2 7 59-3 8th.  [Listens  as 
she  writes.]  Hello!  Is  that  you?  Yes —  yes  — 
Oh,  [Laughs.]  don't  be  silly!  I  called  you  to 
say  I  am  very  sorry,  but  our  engagement  for  to 
morrow  is  off!  O  double  f!  No,  for  good! 
For  Good!  [She  adds  very  quickly.]  Good-by! 
[Hangs  up  the  receiver  and  writes.  In  a  moment 
the  telephone  bell  rings  furiously;  at  first  she  ignores 
it;  then  she  makes  a  grimace  at  it;  then  she  takes 
up  the  receiver.]  Hello !  No,  Central,  I  wasn't 
cut  off.  No,  I  don't  want  the  number  back, 
thank  you,  I  hung  up  the  receiver.  I  can't  help 
that !  You  needn't  re-connect  us  —  say  the  line 
is  busy!  [Hangs  up  the  receiver.]  Mercy!  when 
you  don't  want  them ! !  [Rings  the  electric  bell  on 


70  THE    TRUTH 

the  desk,  endorses  the  check,  puts  it  in  the  letter, 
and  seals  the  envelope.  The  SERVANT  enters  as 
she  addresses  letter.]  I  want  you  to  take  this 
at  once  and  put  a  special  delivery  stamp  on  it. 
I  want  it  to  reach  my  father  in  Baltimore  to 
night. 

SERVANT.   Yes,  madam. 

BECKY.   Have  you  any  idea  whether  it  would 
be  delivered  there  to-night  or  to-morrow  morning? 

SERVANT.   One  or  the  other,  madam. 

BECKY.   [Smiling.]     That      I    know!       Make 
haste. 

[The  SERVANT  goes  out  Left,  as  WARDER,  all 
dressed,  save  that  his  tie  hangs  loose,  rushes 
in,  Right.  She  rises  quickly. 

WARDER.   Who's  ready  first? 

BECKY.   [Laughing.]   Oh,    you've    raced!    But 
while  you're  tying  your  tie  I'll  — 


THE    TRUTH  71 

WARDER.  [Interrupts.]  No,  I  came  down 
purposely  to  get  you  to  tie  it  for  me ! 

[He  stands  ready. 

BECKY.  [Ties  it  during  the  following  speeches.] 
You  forgive  me  for  telling  you  that  little  fib  ? 

WARDER.   Yes,  if  it's  to  be  your  last  one. 

BECKY.    My  very  last. 

WARDER.  No  more  of  those  wicked  little  white 
lies,  even,  that  you  know  you  do  amuse  yourself 
with,  and  distress  me  ? 

BECKY.  No,  no!  Really!  I've  opened  the 
cage  door  and  let  all  the  little  white  mice  fibs  out 
for  good ! 

WARDER.   And  you  do  love  me? 

BECKY.  Do  you  want  to  know  how  much  I  love 
you? 

WARDER.  Yes,  how  much? 


72  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  How  deep  is  the  ocean  in  its  deepest 
spot? 

WARDER.   As  deep  as  your  love  for  me. 

BECKY.  Oh,  that  isn't  fair!  You're  stealing 
my  thunder !  There !  [The  tie  is  finished,  and 
she  pushes  him  playjully  into  the  chair  by  the 
writing-table.}  One  good  turn  deserves  another. 
[With  her  arms  about  his  neck  she  slides  on  to 
his  knee,  like  a  child.]  I've  let  Perkins  go  out,  and 
you  must  hook  me  up  the  back. 

[And  both  laugh  gayly  as  he  embraces  her  and 

THE  CURTAIN   FALLS 


ACT  II 

At  the  Warders'  early  Saturday  afternoon,  just  after 
lunch. 


ACT  II 

The  same  scene  as  Act  I.     BECKY  and  WARDER 
are  sitting  on  the  sofa,  both  drinking  coffee  after 
lunch.    WARDER  puts  his  coffee  cup  on  the  table 
as  the  curtain  rises. 
BECKY.   Aren't  you  going  to  smoke,  darling? 

[Putting  her  coffee  on  the  table  behind  her. 
WARDER.   Yes. 

[Getting  out  cigar. 

BECKY.  Give  it  to  me.  [She  takes  it,  and  cuts 
the  tip  with  a  gold  jewelled  cutter  which  she  wears 
on  a  chain  about  her  neck.}  For  six  years  you've 
not  smoked  a  cigar  in  my  presence  that  I  haven't 

clipped,  have  you? 

75 


76  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  No.  And  how  about  anybody  else's 
cigars  ?  That  hasn't  cut  off  any  tips  for  —  Lin- 
don,  I  hope ! 

BECKY.  No  indeed !  He  only  smokes  cigar 
ettes. 

WARDER.    [Amused.]  Is  that  the  only  reason? 

BECKY.  Oh,  you  darling!  I  believe  you  are  a 
little  jealous  of  Lindon  and  I  adore  you  for  it. 

[Hugging  and  kissing  him. 

WARDER.  Well,  you  go  on  adoring,  but  I'm  not 
a  bit  jealous  of  Lindon. 

[Rises,  and  lights  his  cigar  with  a  match  from  the 
table  behind  them. 

BECKY.  You're  not  going  back  to  the  office? 
It's  Saturday. 

WARDER.  No  —  I  think  I'll  have  a  game  of 
racquets  with  Billy  Weld. 

BECKY.    Do!     You   love   it  so.     I've   regretted 


THE    TRUTH  77 

their    invitation    to   dine    with    them    next   week, 
Friday.     I  said  we're  going  out  of  town. 

WARDER.  But  we're  not.  We've  people  din 
ing  here,  haven't  we? 

BECKY.  Yes,  but  I  think  going  out  of  town 
sounds  so  much  more  interesting.  Besides,  then 
they  can't  possibly  be  offended  that  they  aren't 
asked  here.  Grace '11  be  consumed  with  curiosity, 
too,  as  to  where  we're  going! 

[Amused. 

WARDER.   But  if  they  see  us  Friday? 

BECKY.   They'll  think  we  haven't  gone  yet. 

WARDER.  But  if  Billy  meets  me  down  town 
Saturday  morning? 

BECKY.  He'll  think  you  took  an  early  train 
back. 

WARDER.  The  truth's  so  simple,  so  much 
easier  —  why  not  tell  it  ? 


78  THE  TRUTH 

BECKY.  Don't  worry,  it'll  be  all  right.  I'm 
sorry  I  told  you  if  you're  going  to  worry! 

[He  goes  to  kiss  her;  she  stops  him. 

WARDER.    [Sitting  beside  her.]   What's  up? 

BECKY.  I've  decided  I  kiss  you  too  often.  I'm 
a  shop-keeper  with  only  one  line  of  goods  —  no 
variety,  and  I'm  cheapening  my  wares.  [WAR 
DER  laughs.]  I  don't  want  you  to  feel  you're 
getting  a  left-over  stock  of  stale,  shopworn  kisses ! 
I  want  you  to  feel  the  supply  doesn't  equal  the 
demand. 

[She  kisses  him.     The  SERVANT  enters  and  they 
move  apart. 

SERVANT.   Mrs.  Lindon  to  see  Mr.  Warder. 

BECKY.  [To  WARDER.]  Eve!  [To  SERVANT.] 
Ask  her  to  come  in  here  and  have  a  cup  of  coffee 
and  a  cigarette. 

SERVANT.   Yes,  madam. 

[Goes  out. 


THE    TRUTH  7$ 

BECKY.  [Beaming.]  Come  to  tell  us  of  the 
reconciliation ! 

WARDER.  Why  she  didn't  let  him  go  and  be 
thankful!  I  don't  see  what  she  can  love  in  a 
little  outsider  like  Lindon  ! 

BECKY.  Thank  Heaven  all  women  don't  love 
the  same  kind  of  a  man !  [Steals  a  caress.]  Think 
what  an  awful  fight  there'd  be ! 

SERVANT.  [Coming  back.]  Mrs.  Lindon  sends 
this  message  —  she  wishes  to  see  Mr.  Warder. 

[BECKY  and  WARDER  look  at  each  other,  surprised 
and  amused.     BECKY  makes  a  grimace. 

WARDER.   Very  well,  show  Mrs.  Lindon  in. 

SERVANT.   Yes,  sir. 

[Goes  out. 

WARDER.   More  trouble! 

BECKY.  They've  quarrelled  again  already!  It 
must  have  been  his  fault. 


8o  THE    TRUTH 

[SERVANT  shows  in  MRS.  LINDON  and  goes  out. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [To  WARDER,  not  noticing 
BECKY.]  How  do  you  do? 

WARDER.   How  do  you  do,  Eve? 

BECKY.   How  do'  you  do,  Eve !    Sit  down. 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  wish  to  see  Tom  for  a  mo 
ment,  Becky. 

BECKY.   What  for? 

MRS.  LINDON.   I  wish  to  see  him  alone. 

BECKY.   Why? 

MRS.  LINDON.  That,  Becky,  is  my  affair  — 
and  his  perhaps ! 

BECKY.  Oh,  really!  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be 
come  very  jealous  now,  and  do  dreadful  things. 
[Smiles.]  But  don't  have  me  for  a  moment  on 
your  mind,  Tom. 

[Kisses  her  finger,  puts  it  to  Tom's  lips,  he  kisses 
it,  and  she  goes  out  Right. 


THE    TRUTH  81 

WARDER.  What  is  it,  Eve?-  You  know  I  have 
no  earthly  secrets  from  Becky. 

MRS.  LINDON.   It's  about  her  secrets  from  youl 

WARDER.   Nonsense !  * 

[Half  laughs, 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Silting  in  the  chair  by  the 
table  near  Centre.]  I  only  hinted  at  things  the 
other  day  —  and  only  hinted  at  one-half  the 
truth. 

WARDER.  [Sitting  on  the  sofa.]  Excuse  me, 
Eve,  but  you've  got  hold  of  the  wrong  half.  I 
asked  Becky  outright  —  that  is  our  way  always. 
She  denied  practically  all  you  said. 

MRS.  LINDON.  You  can't  make  me  believe 
you've  lived  as  long  as  you  have  with  Becky 
Roland  and  not  found  out  — •  she  lies. 

WARDER.  [Rises  quickly  in  anger.}  It's  because 
you're  a  woman  you  dare  say  that  to  me,  but  you 

G 


82  THE   TRUTH 

know  I  don't  have  to  listen  to  you,  so  don't  push 

our  old  friendship's  claim  too  far. 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  said  Becky  and  Fred  met  often 
on  the  sly. 

WARDER.   [Sitting  again.]  Which  isn't  true! 

MRS.  LINDON.   No!    They  meet  every  day! 

WARDER.  Eve,  I  think  your  trouble  has  gone 
to  your  brain. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Still  quietly,  but  with  the  quiet 
of  the  crater  when  the  volcano  is  alive  beneath.]  I 
can  prove  to  you  that  Becky  has  seen  Fred  every 
day  and  more  than  that !  When  we  had  our  talk 
two  days  ago,  they  had  agreed  together  that  he 
was  to  go  through  a  form  of  reconciliation  with  me 
for  appearance'  sake,  and  their  meetings  were  to 
continue.  She  had  an  appointment  with  him  for 
yesterday. 


THE    TRUTH  83 

WARDER.  That  I  know  isn't  true,  for  she  swore 
to  me  the  opposite. 

MRS.  LINDON.  Yes,  you  frightened  her  off  and 
she  broke  the  engagement  by  telephone,  which 
made  Fred  perfectly  furious ! 

WARDER.  [Rising,  goes  to  mantel  and  knocks 
his  cigar  ashes  into  the  grate;  absolutely  uncon 
vinced,  he  continues  with  a  cynical  smile.]  And 
how  did  you  obtain  this  decidedly  intimate  infor 
mation  ? 

MRS.  LINDON.  [In  an  outburst,  the  volcano 
becoming  a  little  active.]  From  him!  I  knew 
they  hadn't  met  for  two  days  — 

WARDER.   [Interrupting.]  How? 

[He  looks  up  curiously. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Rises  and  turns  away,  a  little 
ashamed.]  I've  had  Fred  watched  for  weeks! 


84  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  [Astonished,  rises.]  You  mean 
you've  — 

[He  hesitates. 

MRS.  LINDON.  Yes  !  [Coming  to  the  desk,  and  speak 
ing  across  it  to  him.]  I  took  their  not  meeting  for  a 
sign  that  after  all  Becky  had  given  him  up,  and  I 
had  the  impulse  to  go  to  him  —  to  go  back  home. 
He  turned  on  me  like  a  wolf  —  said  I'd  meddled 
with  his  affairs  once  too  often  — that  I'd  frightened 
Becky  into  breaking  off  with  him,  that  he  had 
been  on  the  point  of  making  up  with  me  for  the 
reason  I've  told  you,  but  now  it  was  done  for ! 
I'd  raised  your  suspicions,  I'd  given  the  whole 
thing  away  to  everybody,  and  I  could  congratulate 
myself  on  having  broken  off  his  and  my  relations 
for  good  —  forever !  Oh,  how  could  he  insult 
me  so  when  it  was  only  his  love  I  was  asking 
for? 


THE    TRUTH  85 

[She  sinks  down  in  the  chair  above  the  table,  and 

buries  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobs. 
WARDER.    [Forgets  himself  and  exclaims.}    But 
how  can  you  —  how  can  you  still  care  for  him  after 
everything  you've  gone  through  ?    It's  beyond  my 
understanding ! 

[He  throws  his  cigar  angrily  into  the  fireplace. 
MRS.  LINDON.  The  history  of  the  world  is  full 
of  women  who  love  like  me,  but  no  men  —  I  don't 
know  why;  but  I  suppose  that's  why  you  can't 
understand  it.  Why  couldn't  he  realize  it  is  for 
happiness  not  appearances  I've  been  fighting? 
And  now  it's  over,  for  I  know  when  he  means 
what  he  says  —  and  he  told  me,  like  a  low  brute, 
I  could  go  to  —  where  you  can  imagine  —  for 
all  he  cares,  or  for  all  he'll  ever  live  with  me 
again. 

[Her  voice  fills  up  again. 


86  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  I  should  think  if  you  went  to  the 
address  he  proposed,  it  would  insure  at  least  an 
eventual  meeting! 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Who  has  not  heard  and  does 
not  understand.]  What? 

WARDER.  I  beg  your  pardon !  I  made  a 
foolish  joke !  Well  ?  [With  a  hearty  long  breath 
of  relief.]  Now  do  you  feel  better? 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Feebly,  not  understanding.] 
Better? 

WARDER.  Yes,  now  you've  got  it  all  "off  your 
chest"?  To-morrow  you'll  be  all  right  and 
ready  to  forgive  again.  Shall  I  call  Becky? 

[Going  toward  the  bell  beside  the  mantel. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Rises.]  You're  going  to  ac 
cuse  her  before  me? 

WARDER.  [Stops  and  turns.]  Accuse  her? 
[Laughs.]  No  —  I  don't  believe  a  word  you've 


THE  TRUTH  87 

told  me.  I'd  take  Becky's  unspoken  denial 
against  Fred's  sworn  statement  any  day. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Going  to  him.]  Then  here's 
yesterday's  report  from  the  agency !  —  and  Thurs 
day's,  and  Thursday's  includes  the  report  of  the 
telephone  central  who  connected  Becky  with 
our  house  when  she  broke  off  the  appointment 
with  Fred,  —  that  telephone  girl  has  told  us  many 
interesting  things! 

WARDER.  Stop !  Stop  this !  I  won't  listen 
to  you  —  at  any  rate  not  behind  Becky's  back. 
I'm  not  a  jealous,  suspicious  woman  with  good 
reason  to  believe  the  worst.  I'm  a  straightfor 
ward,  decent  man,  I  hope,  and  I  know  I've  every 
reason  to  believe  absolutely  in  my  wife,  God 
bless  her!  [He  moves  away  and  then  turns  upon 
her.}  Why  have  you  come  and  told  me  this,  any 
way? 


88  THE    TRUTH 

MRS.  LINDON.    [Staggered.]   Why —  why? 

WARDER.  [Angry.]  Yes,  why?  to  me  of  all 
people!  I  was  the  last  person  you  should  have 
told,  as  a  matter  of  breeding,  as  a  matter  of  tact, 
as  a  matter  of  the  friendship  you  talk  about. 

MRS.  LINDON.   But  that  was  just  it ! 

WARDER.  Do  you  dream  what  it  would  mean 
to  me  to  shake  even  by  a  miserable  tremor  my 
confidence  in  my  wife?  But  you  haven't! 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  thought,  and  I  still  think,  it's 
to  your  advantage  to  know. 

WARDER.  \With  a  complete  change  of  voice, 
from  anger  to  the  tone  one  adopts  with  a  silly  child.] 
My  dear  Eve,  while  I  don't  for  a  minute  excuse 
him,  still  I  do  now  understand,  perhaps,  how  even 
Fred  Lindon  must  have  found  your  ideas  of  devo 
tion  at  times  over  the  endurance  line. 

MRS.    LINDON.      You    don't    understand,  —  I 


THE    TRUTH  89 

thought  if  you  knew  everything,  together  we  could 
separate  them  —  could  arrange  something. 

WARDER.  Eve!  believe  me,  there's  nobody 
to  separate  in  this  case;  there's  nothing,  so  far  as 
I  and  mine  are  concerned,  to  arrange. 

[He  goes  again  to  the  bell  by  the  mantel. 

MRS.  LINDON.   Who  are  you  going  to  ring  for? 

WARDER.   You  know. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Stopping  him  quickly.]  Not  be 
fore  me !  I  don't  want  to  see  her  humiliated.  I 
don't  want  a  public  revenge  or  triumph;  that's 
not  the  feeling  I  have. 

WARDER.  What  in  the  world  do  you  mean? 
[He  rings.]  Becky  will  deny  the  — 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Interrupting.]  Very  likely! 
But  these  proofs  are  incombatible,  and  if  that's 
her  attitude,  I  shall  go  straight  from  your  door  to 
the  divorce  court. 


90  THE    TRUTH 

[She  places  the  envelope  0}  reports  on  the  table 
with  a  blow. 

WARDER.  \Goes  to  her.}  You're  mad !  If  your 
proofs  are  all  right,  then  Becky'll  not  deny,  she'll 
explain  them.  You  forget  you  can  only  see 
everything  red  now,  but  I'm  sane  and  quiet  and 
sure  [Smiling.},  and  I  see  things  in  their  true 
colors.  You  must  be  guided  by  me  in  this.  [He 
takes  her  hand  almost  cruelly  and  speaks  strongly, 
with  the  manner  and  voice  of  the  man  who  is  and 
means  to  remain  master.]  Do  you  understand 
that?  [She  draws  her  hand  away  as  if  in  pain.} 
I  beg  your  pardon.  I  am  afraid  you  are  one  of 
those  dangerous  "well-meaning"  persons  who  do 
more  harm  than  the  people  who  are  purposely 
malicious.  You  are  to  take  no  step  without  my 
sanction. 

[BECKY  comes  in  with  a  certain  air  of  bravado. 


THE    TRUTH  91 

BECKY.  Excuse  me,  I  heard  the  bell  and  I  was 
waiting  —  am  I  right  ? 

WARDER.    [Goes  to  her.]   Come  right  in,  dear. 

BECKY.  Well!  has  Eve  thrown  a  bomb,  or  a 
trump  card?  Am  I  to  be  taken  into  the  secret 
or  conspiracy  or  what? 

WARDER.  [After  a  second's  pause,  in  which  he 
thinks  how  to  begin.]  Eve  has  convinced  herself, 
and  would  convince  me,  of  some  very  —  [He  thinks 
for  the  word.}  wrong  —  worse  than  wrong  things, 
but  I  prefer  to  be  convinced  of  the  contrary  by 
you.  And  I  prefer  to  come  to  you  with  my  con 
fidence,  my  conviction  complete.  And  together 
we'll  try  to  keep  Eve  from  harming  others  as  well 
as  herself  and  Lindon  —  the  latter  seems  unavoid 
able.  [EvE  pushes  her  papers  on  the  desk  point 
edly  nearer  to  him.  He  ignores  them.]  Eve  says 
you've  not  been  seeing  Lindon  often,  but  every  day. 


92  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.    Do  you  want  me  to  deny  it? 

WARDER.  [Indulgently.]  I  want  you  to  tell 
the  truth. 

BECKY.  Of  course  the  accusation  and  the  idea 
behind  it  are  absurd.  [WARDER  turns  and  looks 
at  MRS.  LINDON,  who  meets  his  glance  and  then 
looks  down  at  the  evidence  on  the  table,  pushing 
the  papers  a  little  farther  toward  him.  He  does 
not  follow  her  glance.  BECKY  half  laughs.}  It's 
like  a  trial,  isn't  it?  By  what  right  does  Eve  — 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Interrupting.]  The  supreme 
right  of  any  married  woman  who  cares  for  her 
husband.  Shall  I  be  more  explicit? 

BECKY.  No,  you  needn't  trouble!  What  next, 
Tom? 

WARDER.  Eve  claims  you  had  an  engagement 
with  Fred  — 

[Hesitates,  trying  to  remember  the  day. 


THE    TRUTH  93 

MRS.  LINDON.  [Quickly.]  Day  before  yester 
day. 

WARDER.  Which  you  broke  off  over  the  tele 
phone. 

BECKY.  How  does  she  know  that?  Does  she 
tap  our  wire?  Merciful  Heavens,  Eve,  you've 
become  so  morbid  over  your  trouble  your  mind's 
diseased  on  the  subject  of  Fred  —  and  everybody 
else  apparently. 

MRS.  LINDON.   Ha! 

WARDER.    But  is  this  true,  Becky? 

BECKY.    [To  gain  time.]     Is  what  true? 

WARDER.  About  this  appointment  with  Fred 
which  you  broke  over  the  — 

BECKY.    [Interrupting.]   Of  course  not! 

WARDER.  [Who  begins  to  doubt  her.]  If  it  were, 
you  could  easily  explain  it,  I'm  sure. 

[Hoping  to  suggest  this  course  to  her. 


94  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  [Her  head  lost.]  Of  course  —  but 
there's  nothing  to  explain !  The  whole  thing's 
false!  What  do  you  take  me  for,  Eve?  If  you 
think  I'm  a  home  destroyer,  you've  made  a  mis 
take  in  the  bird !  And  what  do  you  mean  by 
coming  into  my  precious  home  and  trying  to  make 
trouble  for  me? 

'  [Silling  on  the  sofa,  frightened  and  almost  in 
tears. 

WARDER.  Wait  a  minute,  Becky,  it's  partly 
my  fault. 

BECKY.  It  is  not!  I  know  whose  fault  it  is, 
and  I  must  say  that,  at  last,  I  don't  blame  Fred 
Lindon ! 

MRS.  LINDON.   Oh! 

BECKY.  There!  I'm  sorry  I  said  that.  When 
I'm  excited  like  this  I  speak  the  truth  straight 
out,  no  matter  what  happens! 


THE    TRUTH  95 

WARDER.  Well  really  it  was  I  who  insisted 
on  your  joining  us,  against  Eve's  will.  [To  MRS. 
LINDON.]  Your  way  was  best.  It  was  my  man's 
point  of  view  —  [To  BECKY.]  and  you  are  right, 
under  the  circumstances,  no  doubt,  to  answer  as 
you  do. 

BECKY.  My  dear  Tom,  there's  no  other  way 
to  answer. 

WARDER.  [Looks  at  her,  then  takes  up  the 
envelope  containing  the  detective  reports  and  holds 
them  tightly  in  his  hand.  He  comes  down  to  MRS. 
LINDON.]  If  you  will  leave  us  alone,  I  will  go  over 
the  whole  matter  with  Becky,  —  by  ourselves 
will  be  much  better. 

MRS.  LINDON.  I  need  hardly  tell  you  those 
papers  are  most  valuable  to  me. 

BECKY.  {Looking  up,  her  curiosity  aroused.} 
What  papers? 


96  THE    TRUTH 

[Nobody  answers  her.     She  tries  to  see. 

MRS.  LINDON.  Will  you  promise  me  not  to 
let  them  out  of  your  hands  till  you  put  them  back 
into  mine? 

WARDER.   I  will. 

MRS.  LINDON.  [/Is  she  moves  to  go,  slops.] 
You  will  find  the  entries  which  are  of  particular 
interest  to  you  marked  on  the  margin  with  a 
red  cross ! 

WARDER.   [Satirically.]  Thank  you! 

[BECKY  rises  and  rings  for  the  SERVANT.    MRS. 
LINDON  goes  out. 

BECKY.  [Coming  to  meet  WARDER.]  I  think 
I'm  a  pretty  good-natured  woman  to  let  Eve  — 

WARDER.  [Stands  before  BECKY  with  his  hands 
on  her  shoulders,  making  her  look  straight  into  his 
eyes.}  Now  be  careful,  dearest.  You've  married 
a  man  who  doesn't  understand  a  suspicious  nature 


THE  TRUTH  97 

—  who  has  every  confidence  in  you  and  the  deep 
est  —  a  confidence  that  couldn't  be  easily  dis 
turbed;  but  once  it  was  shaken,  every  unborn 
suspicion  of  all  the  past  years  would  spring  to 
life  fullgrown  and  strong  at  their  birth,  and  God 
knows  if  my  confidence  could  ever  come  back. 
It  never  has  in  any  of  the  smaller  trials  of  it  I've 
made  in  my  life.  So  you'll  be  careful,  won't  you, 
dearest?  I  mean  even  in  little  things.  My  faith 
in  you  is  what  gives  all  the  best  light  to  my  life, 
but  it's  a  live  wire  —  neither  you  nor  I  can  afford 
to  play  with  it. 

[Goes  to  the  writing  table  and  takes  the  papers 
out  of  EVE'S  envelop?. 

BECKY.  Tom,  you  frighten  me !  Eve  has  made 
you  jealous  again.  [Goes  to  him  and  puts  both 
arms  about  his  neck.]  Now,  my  darling,  I  give 

you  my  word  of  honor  I  love  only  you  and  never 
H 


98  THE    TRUTH 

have  loved  Fred  Lindon  and  never  could !     Say 

you  believe  me! 

WARDER.   Haven't  I  always  believed  you? 

BECKY.  Ye s. 

WARDER.  But  if  I  find  your  word  of  honor  is 
broken  in  one  thing,  how  can  I  ever  trust  it  in 
another  ? 

BECKY.  Of  course  you  can't,  —  but  you  needn't 
worry,  because  it  won't  be  broken. 

WARDER.  Then,  now  we're  alone,  tell  me  the 
truth,  which  you  didn't  tell  me  when  you  said 
you'd  not  seen  Lindon  often. 

BECKY.  [Turns  away.]  It  was  the  truth.  I 
haven't  —  so  very  often. 

WARDER.   Not  every  day? 

BECKY.   [Sits  in  the  chair  by  the  writing-table.] 

How  could  I? 

/ 

WARDER.  Nor  telephoned  him  Thursday,  break- 


THE    TRUTH  99 

ing  off  an  engagement  after  you  told  me  abso 
lutely  you'd  parted  with  him  for  good  —  and 
had  no  appointment? 

BECKY.  Of  course  not!  The  idea!  [But  she 
shows  she  is  a  little  worried.]  Eve  Lindon  never 
could  tell  the  truth! 

WARDER.  The  telephone  girl  must  have  lied 
too  or  else  the  statement  was  made  out  of  whole 
cloth. 

[Throwing  the  envelope  on  the  desk. 

BECKY.   What  statement? 

WARDER.  [Sitting  on  sofa.}  From  these  detec 
tives. 

[He  begins  to  look  through  the  papers. 

BECKY.  Detectives!  [Stunned.]  What  detec 
tives  ? 

[Picks  up  envelope  and  looks  at  it,  puts  it  back 
on  desk. 


loo  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  Eve's,  who  have  shadowed  her  hus 
band  for  the  past  two  months. 

BECKY.  [Thoroughly  alarmed.]  You  don't 
mean  — 

WARDER.  [Interrupts,  not  hearing  what  BECKY 
says ;  his  thoughts  on  the  papers  which  he  is  read 
ing,  he  speaks  very  quietly.]  These  certainly  do 
make  out  a  case  of  daily  meetings  for  you  two. 

BECKY.   It's  not  true! 

WARDER.  Though  not  so  very  many  here. 

[Turning  over  a  jresh  paper. 

BECKY.  [Rises,  gets  above  desk.]  All!  All  the 
meetings  there  have  been,  —  practically.  This  is 
simply  awful !  Eve  is  capable  of  making  the  most 
terrific  scandal  for  nothing.  Don't  let  her,  Tom, 
will  you?  Tear  those  things  up! 

WARDER.  [Smiling  indulgently,  not  taking  her 
seriously.]  Becky! 


THE    TRUTH  101 

BECKY.  [Leaning  over  the  table,  stretches  out 
her  hand  toward  him.]  Well,  let  me!  Let  me 
take  them  from  you  without  your  noticing  till 
it's  too  late ! 

WARDER.   [Seriously.]  You're  not  serious? 

BECKY.   I  am ! 

WARDER.   You  heard  me  give  Eve  my  word  ? 

BECKY.  To  a  mad  woman  like  that  it  doesn't 
count. 

WARDER.  I  wonder  just  how  much  your  word 
does  count  with  you,  Becky! 

BECKY.  [With  great  and  injured  dignity.] 
It  counts  everything! 

WARDER.  They  seem  to  have  hit  on  some  very 
out-of-the-way  places  for  your  rendezvous.  [He 
smiles.]  Where  is  Huber's  museum? 

BECKY.  Why,  it's  down  on  Fourteenth  —  [She 
interrupts  herself  quickly.]  I  don't  know  where  it  is .' 


102  THE    TRUTH 

[She  moves  away  to  colled  herself. 

WARDER.  [Still  smiling.]  And  why  the  Wash 
ington  Heights  Inn  in  February?  Or  the  Eden 
Muse"e  ever? 

BECKY.  Of  course  some  one  else  has  been 
mistaken  for  me. 

WARDER.  [Looks  up.]  Ah !  yes,  that's  a  very 
possible  idea. 

BECKY.  [Goes  to  the  sofa  and  sits  beside  him.] 
Tom,  don't  read  any  more  of  the  horrid  things! 
Listen  to  me,  don't  let  Eve  go  on.  She'll  ruin 
everything  if  she  does.  He'll  never  forgive  her, 
never  take  her  back. 

WARDER.  [Reading  and  smiling.]  I  didn't  know 
you  skated  1 

BECKY.  I  always  loved  skating.  I  only  gave 
it  up  because  it  bored  you.  But  I  didn't  skate 
then! 


THE    TRUTH  103 

WARDER.   When  ? 

BECKY.  I  —  I  don't  —  oh,  whenever  that  beast 
says! 

WARDER.  St.  Nicholas  Rink,  Friday,  February 
eighteenth.  [He  has  noticed  the  slip  she  made, 
but  hides  the  fact;  he  speaks  as  he  goes  on  read 
ing.]  Eve  and  her  husband  have  had  a  big 
row,  and  he  swears  he'll  never  see  her  again, 
not  even  in  the  other  place,  that  she's  come  be 
tween  you  and  him  and  that  he'll  never  forgive. 

[He  finishes  seriously,  his  bantering  manner  gone. 

BECKY.  Oh,  how  untrue !  I  don't  believe  he 
said  any  such  thing.  Eve's  jealous  mind  has 
distorted  something  else.  The  reason  for  our 
friendship  —  [He  rises  with  a  half-angry  move 
ment,  goes  above  the  table  looking  for  the  envelope.} 
such  as  it  is  —  was  to  bring  Eve  and  him  together. 

WARDER.   From  your  point  of  view. 


104  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  No,  believe  me,  he  isn't  as  bad  as  you 
think. 

WARDER.  [Showing  the  papers.]  And  what 
about  these?  They  agree  with  me. 

BECKY.  If  you  believe  those  papers  about  him, 
then  you  must  believe  them  about  me. 

WARDER.  [Coming  to  her.]  Heaven  forbid, 
Becky !  They  would  prove  you  a  liar  and  a 
terrible  one  —  which  you're  not,  a.-e  you? 

BECKY.   How  can  you  ask? 

WARDER.  If  these  were  true  —  if  I  thought 
you  had  deceived  me  to  such  an  extent  —  I  could 
never  trust  you  again  so  long  as  I  lived,  Becky. 

BECKY.  Shall  you  speak  to  Mr.  Lindon  about 
them? 

WARDER.  No,  I  wouldn't  insult  you  by  dis 
cussing  you  with  Lindon,  unless  I  was  convinced 
every  word  and  more  here  was  true.  I  will  see 


THE    TRUTH  105 

Eve   to-morrow   and   perhaps   get   hold   of   these 
detectives  myself. 

BECKY.  [Almost  trembling  with  dread.]  And 
now  go  and  have  your  game.  You  need  it ! 
You're  getting  morbid.  You'll  be  believing  these 
beastly  things  if  you  don't  get  some  exercise. 

WARDER.   What  time  is  it? 

BECKY.  [She  looks  at  clock  on  the  mantel,  and 
speaks  with  her  face  still  away  from  him.]  Three. 
When  will  you  be  back? 

[She  conceals  her  anxiety  to  hear  his  answer. 

WARDER.   Oh,  six,  I  suppose. 
'  BECKY.    [Facing    him    with    a    certain    relief.] 
Not  till  six  —  you're  sure  ? 

WARDER.  Yes,  you  know  your  father's  coming 
and  there's  no  necessity  of  my  seeing  him. 

BECKY.  Oh!  I  forgot  all  about  father's  tele 
gram!  If  it's  money,  I'm  to  be  firm? 


106  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.   Absolutely. 

BECKY.  [Taking  hold  of  the  envelope  which 
he  has  in  his  left  hand  away  from  her.]  What  are 
you  going  to  do  with  those? 

WARDER.  You  heard  me  tell  Eve  they  shouldn't 
go  out  of  my  hands  except  into  hers. 

[He  gently  but  firmly  removes  her  hand  from 
the  envelope. 

BECKY.   And  you  meant  it? 

WARDER.  Don't  you  mean  a  promise  you  give 
like  that? 

BECKY.   Yes,  of  course.  .  .,»; 

WARDER.  [Taking  out  his  keys.]  I'm  going  to 
put  them  away  in  my  room.  I  want  to  have  a 
thorough,  careful  look  through  them  later.  Of 
course  I  can't  let  it  rest  here.  The  detectives 
must  learn  their  mistake  at  once. 


THE    TRUTH  107 

BECKY.  Yes,  of  course.  But  you  are  going 
to  the  Welds'  now  for  your  game? 

WARDER.   Yes,  good-by. 

[Presses  her  hand.  Gives  her  a  tender  but 
questioning  look,  but  does  not  kiss  her,  and 
then  goes  out. 

BECKY.  He's  begun  to  distrust  me  already. 
Dear  God  in  Heaven,  if  I  ever  get  out  of  this, 
I'll  never  tell  another  lie  so  long  as  I  live!  [She 
turns  to  the  window.  Smiles  to  WARDER  outside 
and  throws  him  a  kiss,  but  afterward  her  face  at 
once  assumes  its  frightened  look.  Coming  from  the 
window,  she  sinks  upon  the  piano  stool.]  He's  got 
to  save  me !  Now  he  can  prove  that  he  is  worthy 
a  decent  woman's  friendship.  [She  goes  to  the 
telephone  and  calls.]  Hello  !  Hello  !  [She  suddenly 
realizes.]  But  I  can't  use  the  telephone !  Central 
has  told  things  already !  [She  hangs  up  the  receiver. 


io8  THE    TRUTH 

The  telephone  bell  rings.]  I  must  write  him.  [The 
bell  rings  again.  She  lakes  up  the  receiver  and 
speaks  angrily.}  Hello?  .  .  .  No,  I  didn't  ring. 
You've  made  a  mistake.  [Hangs  up  the  receiver.] 
You  telltale  toad  you!  [She  writes.]  "If  this 
note  reaches  you  in  time,  please  come  over"  — 
I  ought  to  be  able  to  get  rid  of  father  in  half  an 
hour  —  [She  looks  up  at  the  clock.]  "at  half-past 
three."  [Seals  note  and  addresses  it.]  "Impor 
tant." 

[Which  she  underlines. 

SERVANT.   [Entering  Left,  announces.]  Mr.  Ro 
land. 

[ROLAND  is  an  elderly,  dried-up  little  man  with 
an  air  of  the  dandy  jockey  still  clinging  to 
him  underneath  his  gray  hairs  and  dyed  mous 
tache.  A  vivid  carnation  is  in  his  buttonhole 
and  a  somewhat  rusty  springiness  in  his  gait. 


THE    TRUTH  109 

ROLAND.    [Coming  in  jauntily.]   Hello,  Beck ! 
BECKY.    [With  fictitious  spirit.]   Father! 
[He  starts  to  kiss  her,  forgetting  the  ever  present 
cigarette  in  his  mouth;   then  he  stops  to  re 
move  it,  and  does  kiss  her. 
ROLAND.   How  are  you? 

BECKY.  I'm  awfully  glad  to  see  you,  but  you 
can't  stay  long.  Excuse  me  just  a  moment. 
Jenks,  I  want  you  to  ring  for  a  messenger  and 
give  him  -r-  [Stops.]  no,  when  he  comes,  send  him 
to  me. 

[She  has  started  to  give  JENKS  the  note,  but 
changes  her  mind.  JENKS  bows  and  turns  to 
leave. 

ROLAND.  I  say,  Becky,  might  I  have  a  glass 
of  brandy  ?  I  took  coffee  after  lunch  on  the  train 
and  it's  poisoned  me.  Must  have  been  canned 
coffee ! 


1 10  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.   Very  well,  Jenks. 

[The  SERVANT  goes  out  Left. 

ROLAND.  [Lolling  on  the  soja.]  What  the  devil 
did  you  mean  by  sending  me  fifty  dollars  instead 
of  five  hundred? 

BECKY.  [Surprised.]  I  read  it  fifty!  I  never 
dreamed  you'd  ask  for  five  hundred  more! 

[Going  toward  him. 

ROLAND.  I  wrote  five  hundred  and  I  must  have 
it! 

BECKY.  My  dear  father,  it's  impossible.  I 
tried  as  it  was  to  get  a  little  more  from  Tom,  but 
he  said  "no,"  to  send  you  the  fifty  dollars,  with 
his  love,  but  not  one  penny  more,  and  to  make 
you  understand  —  and,  father,  he  means  it  — 
that  for  the  future  you  must  keep  within  your 
allowance. 


THE    TRUTH  ill 

[The   SERVANT    enters    with   the   brandy   on   a 

salver,  and  pours  out  a  liqueur  glass  full. 
ROLAND.   But  you'll  help  me? 
BECKY.    [Sitting  on  the  opposite  end  of  the  so/a.] 
No,  he  forbids  it,  and  in  the  future  I'm  going  to 
do  what  Tom  wishes,  and  never  deceive  him  even 
in  a  little  thing  again.       [To   the   SERVANT   who 
hands  the  glass  0}  brandy  to  ROLAND.]   The  mes 
senger  boy  hasn't  come  yet? 
SERVANT.   No,  madam. 

BECKY.   If  he  doesn't   come   in   five   minutes, 
ring  again. 
SERVANT.  Yes,  madam. 

[Starting  to  go,  ROLAND  stops  him. 
ROLAND.   Not  so  fast! 

[He  points  to  the  glass  which  he  has  emptied  and 
the  SERVANT  pours  out  another  glass.  ROLAND 
takes  it  and  puts  it  on  the  table  behind  him. 


M2  THE    TRUTH 

The  SERVANT  busies  himself  ivith  gathering 
up  the  after-dinner  coffee  cups  and  trying  to 
overhear  all  that  he  can. 

BECKY.   How  is  Mrs.  Crespigny? 

ROLAND.  That  woman  will  be  the  death  or  the 
marriage  of  me! 

BECKY.  Don't  be  absurd,  father!  She's  given 
you  the  most  comfortable  home  you've  had  for 
years.  In  that  letter  she  wrote  me  she  said  she'd 
been  a  real  mother  to  you. 

ROLAND.  The  mother  is  a  blind,  a  false  lead 
to  hide  her  hand !  her  trumps  are  marriage. 

BECKY.  Nonsense !  Mrs.  Crespigny  must  real 
ize  the  difference  in  your  positions. 

ROLAND.  You  haven't  lived  with  her  social 
souvenirs  as  I  have  for  four  years !  [The  SERVANT 
starts  to  take  up  tfte  glass  wkjfh  ROLAND  has  put 
aside,  but  the  latter  stops  him.  The  SERVANT  has 


THE    TRUTH  113 

delayed  over  his  work  as  long  as  he  dares  in  his 
desire  to  listen,  and  now  goes  out  Left.]  Becky,  are 
you  and  Tom  hungering  for  a  mother-in-law? 

BECKY.   I  don't  know  what  you  mean? 

ROLAND.  It's  a  question  of  five  hundred  dollars 
for  me  or  a  new  Mrs.  Roland ! 

BECKY.  [Astounded.]  You  don't  mean  you  owe 
Mrs.  Crespigny  that  money? 

ROLAND.  Well,  I've  not  paid  my  board  bill  as 
regularly  as  I  might  have  wished. 

BECKY.  [Rises,  indignant.]  I'm  ashamed  of 
you! 

ROLAND.  I'm  ashamed  of  myself,  but  shame 
won't  pay  bills;  if  it  would,  there'd  have  been 
many  an  unpaid  debt  washed  off  the  slate  in  this 
world. 

[The  SERVANT  returns  with  a  messenger  boy. 

SERVANT.   The  messenger,  madam. 
i 


114  THE    TRUTH 

[BECKY  goes  to  the  boy.  During  BECKY'S  talk 
with  the  messenger,  ROLAND  fills  his  pocket 
with  cigars  from  the  box  on  the  table. 

BECKY.  I  want  you  to  take  this  note  to  its  ad 
dress,  but  only  leave  it  in  case  the  gentleman  is  in. 
Do  you  understand? 

MESSENGER.  Yes,  ma'am. 

BECKY.   And  come  back  and  tell  me. 

MESSENGER.  Yes,  ma'am. 

[He  goes  out  with  the  SERVANT,  who  has  waited 
for  him. 

ROLAND.  I  confess,  my  child,  I  have  flirted  a 
little  with  the  dame  in  question. 

BECKY.   Father! 

ROLAND.   I  have,  in  a  way,  led  her  on ! 

BECKY.  And  you  always  told  me  my  mother's 
memory  was  the  one  precious  thing  left,  that 
you  meant  to  keep  always  untouched  by  your  life ! 


THE    TRUTH  115 

ROLAND.  I  don't  deny,  Becky,  I'd  be  ashamed 
of  it.  I  don't  pretend  Mrs.  Crespigny  would  be 
a  solace  or  a  substitute;  she  would,  at  the  best 
perhaps,  be  a  resource,  —  but  what  she  threatens 
to  become  unless  I  pay  is  a  legal  necessity! 

BECKY.   Could  she  do  that? 

ROLAND.  I  have  been  obliged  at  times  by  des 
perate  need  of  ready  money  to  suggest  to  her  cer 
tain  things  as  probabilities  which  were  barely 
remote  possibilities !  And  unfortunately  —  un 
fortunately  —  once  or  twice  in  writing. 

BECKY.    She  has  compromising  letters  of  yours  ? 

ROLAND.  She  has  a  large  collection  of  illus 
trated  postal  cards  from  every  place  I've  been 
since  I've  lodged  with  her,  —  they  are  her  chief  ar 
tistic  dissipation  —  and  a  double  set  of  Baltimore 
Duplicates,  which  I  am  afraid  are  the  most  foolish ; 
as  I  am  in  the  habit  of  making  up  with  her  in  that 


Il6  THE    TRUTH 

way  after  little  tiffs  when  she  takes  the  stand  of 

not  being  on  speaking  terms  with  me. 

BECKY.   Father!    You've  been  a  terrible  idiot. 

ROLAND.   I  have,  my  dear! 

BECKY.   Can't  you  get  those  cards  back? 

ROLAND.  The  rent  due  is  "Mother's"  price 
for  them.  [Rising.]  You  will  make  Tom  give  it 
to  me,  won't  you?  and  I'll  promise  not  to  make 
such  a  fool  of  myself  again. 

[Sitting  on  the  arm  0}  the  sofa,  drawing  BECKY 
toward  him  and  putting  both  his  arms  about 
her. 

BECKY.  Tom's  idea  now  is  that  you  deserve 
all  you  get.  He'll  say  you  deserve  Mrs.  Cres- 
pigny. 

[Leaving  him,  she  goes  above  the  table. 

ROLAND.   Oh,  come,  she's  not  so  bad  as  that! 

BECKY.   How  old  is  she? 


THE    TRUTH  117 

ROLAND.  She  has  told  me  several  ages.  The 
general  average  would  make  her  about  forty-seven 
and  a  quarter. 

BECKY.   Pretty  ? 

ROLAND.  A  fine  figure  of  a  woman  and  plays 
an  A-one  game  of  piquet. 

BECKY.   I  see !    When  did  her  husband  die  ? 

ROLAND.  He  didn't  die.  He  stole  from  the 
bank  in  which  he  was  employed  and  went  to  jail, 
and  she  says  for  social  reasons  she  was  naturally 
obliged  to  take  advantage  of  the  divorce  law.  I 
have  a  suspicion  myself  he  may  have  preferred  jail ! 

BECKY.  [Comes  quickly  to  him.]  Father,  I 
would  never  forgive  you  if  you  did  such  a  thing! 
It's  degrading  to  me  and  to  my  mother's  memory 
for  you  to  accept  any  sort  of  indulgence  at  that 
woman's  hands!  When  we  get  her  paid,  you 
must  leave  her  house. 


n8  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.  That  I  can't  and  won't  do,  because 
I'm  far  too  comfortable ! 

SERVANT.  [Entering  Left,  announces.]  Mrs. 
Crespigny ! 

ROLAND.   [Jumps  up.]  Mrs.  who? 

[MRS.  CRESPIGNY  comes  in  flamboyantly.  She 
is  a  woman  past  the  age  of  uncertainly,  dressed 
gaudily,  with  an  hour-glass  figure;  she  has 
innumerable  bracelets  and  bangles,  and  an  imita 
tion  jewelled  chain  flaunts  a  heavy  pair  of  lor 
gnettes,  like  a  gargoyle  hanging  over  a  much- 
curved  bust.  Enormous  wax  pearls  in  her 
ears  are  in  direct  contrast  to  the  dark  begin 
nings  of  her  otherwise  russet-gold  hair. 
Neither  her  shoes  nor  her  stays  fit,  and  both 
are  too  tight.  She  is  brightly  rouged,  and  yet 
the  very  failure  of  the  facade  reveals,  somehow, 


THE    TRUTH  119 

the  honest  interior  of  a  human  if  forlornly 
foolish  female. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Excuse  me  for  intruding 
myself  which  I  know  is  not  social  good  form. 
Mis'  Warder,  I  take  it? 

[BECKY  bows. 

ROLAND.  [Angrily.}  What  do  you  mean  by 
following  me  here? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [After  severe  look  at  him, 
turns  back  to  BECKY.]  I  want  you  to  know  the  facts 
as  between  your  father  and  me,  and  just  how  the 
matter  is,  and  get  your  support  that  I  done  right ! 
[To  ROLAND.]  I  know  your  daughter  is  a  lady 
if  you  ain't,  and  being  a  lady  myself  I  have  a  cer 
tain  pride.  [To  BECKY.]  I've  had  a  good  deal  of 
trouble  persuading  your  father  that  though  a  lady 
sometimes  takes  in  a  paying  guest  she  still  holds 
her  own  in  the  social  scale.  I  have  friends  of  my 


120  THE    TRUTH 

own  in  the  New  York  Smart  Set!  My  niece 
married  a  Mr.  Gubenhamers  and  lives  in  a  per 
fectly  elegant  house  of  her  own  on  Lennox  Avenue. 
Do  you  know  her?  One  thousand  two  hundred 

and  fifty-three  ? 

• 

BECKY.   No. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Oh,  don't  you?  Well,  of 
course  I  know  New  York  is  big.  Still,  perhaps 
you  know  her  husband's  cousin,  who  is  also  in  a 
way  a  relation  ?  You  will  know  her  by  name  — 
Mrs.  Otto  Gurtz,  President  of  the  West  Side  Ladies 
Saturday  Afternoon  Social  Gathering? 

BECKY.   No,  I'm  afraid  I  don't  know  her. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Well !  I  guess  you  don't  read 
the  Harlem  society  notes  in  the  papers;  if  you  did, 
you'd  know  what  she  stands  for  socially. 

BECKY.  Suppose  we  keep  to  the  reason  of  your 
visit  —  I  understand  my  father  owes  you  money  — 


THE    TRUTH  121 

[MRS.  CRESPIGNY  turns  sharply  to  ROLAND.]  and 
that  you  insist  on  being  paid,  which  is  natural  — 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  A  trumped-up  story!  [Go 
ing  to  ROLAND.]  I  guess  I  done  just  about  the 
right  thing  to  chase  on  here  after  you !  I'm  sorry 
to  say  it,  Mis'  Warder,  'specially  as  it  ain't  exactly 
ladylike,  but  your  father,  with  all  his  superfine 
qualities,  is  a  liar!  Yes,  ma'am,  between  us  two 
as  ladies,  he's  an  ornery  liar ! 

[Sinks  into  a  chair  in  tears.  ROLAND  lights  a 
cigarette  angrily  and  goes  up  to  the  window. 

BECKY.  Mrs.  Crespigny,  wouldn't  it  be  better 
to  behave  more  like  a  lady  and  talk  less  about  one  ? 
Why  break  into  the  house  of  a  woman  you  don't 
know  and  make  a  scene  over  a  matter  of  rent  due 
you — • 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  It  ain't  the  rent!  It's  all 
a  question  of  horses.  When  he  left  my  house 


122  THE    TRUTH 

this  morning,  he  said  he  was  leaving  for  good  un 
less  I  let  him  have  — 

ROLAND.  [Interrupting  her.]  Mrs.  Crespigny! 
You're  hysterical!  You're  saying  things  you'll 
regret  — 

SERVANT.  [Entering,  Left.}  The  messenger  has 
come  back,  madam. 

BECKY.  Oh,  I  want  to  see  that  boy!  Excuse 
me  a  minute. 

[She  hurries  out  and  the  SERVANT  follows  her. 

ROLAND.  I  knew  you  were  in  the  train;  that's 
why  I  staid  in  the  smoker.  And  it  decided 
me  to  keep  my  word  never  to  go  back  to  your 
house ! 

[He  sits  determinedly  in  the  arm-chair  at  Left. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  And  you  told  her  I  was  dun 
ning  you  for  the  rent ! 

ROLAND.    She  has  no  more  sympathy  with  my 


THE  TRUTH  123 

betting  than  you  have !  I  wouldn't  tell  her  the 
money  was  to  put  on  Wet  Blanket,  Monday! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Rises  and  goes  to  hint.]  No, 
you'd  rather  let  her  think  I  was  a  grasping  harpy, 
when  you  know,  if  the  truth's  told,  you  owe  me  at 
least  five  times  five  hundred  dollars  with  your 
borrowings  and  your  losses  at  cards  ! 

ROLAND.    [Smilingly.]  You  haven't  won  lately. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.    Do  you  know  why? 

ROLAND.  Oh,  of  course !  You  got  out  of  the 
wrong  side  of  the  bed  or  you  dreamed  of  a  black 
horse ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Pathetically  and  a  little 
ashamed.]  No.  I've  let  you  win  a-purpose  — • 
because  I  was  ashamed  for  you  to  owe  me  any 
more  money.  I'm  trying  to  keep  a  little  pride  in 
you  somehow,  even  if  I  have  to  cheat  to  do  it. 

[She   almost   breaks   down   again,   and  turning 


124  THE    TRUTH 

away,  takes  a  powder  puff  from  a  little  gilt 
box  and  powders  her  nose  to  cover  up  the  traces 
of  tears. 

ROLAND.  Well,  do  you  think  it's  pleasant  for 
me  to  owe  you  money?  A  kind  friend  like  you! 
[Going  to  the  mantel  and  flicking  his  cigarette  ash 
in  the  fireplace.]  One  reason  I  want  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  this  tip  for  Monday  is  to  pay  you  if  I 
win. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Yes,  and  then  go  board 
somewhere  else?  Is  that  your  idea?  Or  to 
stay  here  ? 

ROLAND.  Well,  my  daughter  and  her  husband 
want  me.  [Leaning  on  the  mantel.]  They  say 
their  home  is  my  home. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Going  toward  him,  alarmed.] 
But  you  won't  stay,  will  you?  I  left  word  with 
Josephine  to  have  your  favorite  meenoo  cooked 


THE    TRUTH  125 

for  a  late  supper  in  case  you'd  come  back.  We'll 
have  a  game  to-night.  I'll  play  you  a  rubber  for 
the  five  hundred  —  it's  against  my  conscience  to 
give  it  to  you  outright  for  horse-racing. 

ROLAND.   Loan  it  to  me ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Yes,  of  course !  I  always 
mean  loan.  Oh,  the  flat'd  be  just  too  dreadful 
lonesome  without  you !  Say  you'll  come  back ! 
Quick,  before  Mis'  Warder  comes  in !  Won't 
you? 

ROLAND.  [Coming  toward  her.]  Well,  if  you 
make  it  a  personal  favor  to  you  in  this  way,  I  can't 
exactly  refuse!  And  that  ends  the  most  serious 
quarrel  we've  had  yet. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Embarrassedly.]  If  we  was 
man  and  wife,  there  wouldn't  be  any  need  of  such 
quarrels.  The  money'd  be  yours  then  to  do  as 
you  liked  with. 


126  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.  Don't  tempt  me!  You  know  you're 
a  great  deal  too  kind  to  me  as  it  is  and  I'm  no 
good  to  take  as  much  advantage  of  you  as  I  do. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Oh,  pshaw!  Say!  I  wish 
you'd  help  me  to  get  on  the  right  side  of  your 
daughter.  You're  too  delicate  to  say  anything, 
but  I  always  suspect  it's  her  that  stands  between 
us. 

BECKY.  [Coming  back.]  I'm  very  sorry,  but  you 
must  go  at  once.  I  have  an  important  engage 
ment  here  in  a  few  minutes  and  must  change  my 
dress.  I  will  promise  you,  Mrs.  Crespigny  — 

ROLAND.  [Interrupts.]  I  have  made  an  arrange 
ment  with  Mrs.  Crespigny  that  is  agreeable  to  her, 
without  Tom's  and  your  assistance  — 

BECKY.    [Alarmed.]   Father,  not  — 

ROLAND.  [Shakes  his  head.]  It  seems  I  exag 
gerated  my  indebtedness  a  little  and  Mrs.  Cres- 


THE   TRUTH  127 

pigny  exaggerated  her  desire  to  be  paid  this  month 
and  — 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Yes,  I  was  just  mad  clean 
through  and  would  have  said  anything! 

BECKY.  Well,  I'm  glad  it's  settled,  but  it  seems 
a  pity  you  couldn't  have  accomplished  it  without 
the  railway  journey,  especially  as  I  must  ask  you 
to  excuse  me  at  once. 

[She  guides  MRS.  CRESPIGNY  toward  the  door 
Left,  but  MRS.  CRESPIGNY,  instead  of  going 
out,  makes  a  circle  around  an  arm-chair  and 
settles  herself  in  it.  BECKY  goes  despairingly 
to  ROLAND. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Oh,  I  don't  regret  the  trip 
over,  because  I've  been  dying  to  meet  you,  Mis' 
Warder,  ever  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing 
your  father  in  a  taty  taty  sort  of  way.  And  we 
can  catch  the  four-fifteen. 


128  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  Good !  [Crossing  to  her,  and  holding 
out  her  hand.]  I'm  sorry  I  can't  ask  you  to  stay. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Oh,  I  can  come  over  nearly 
any  day !  I've  got  such  a  perfectly  lovely  servant 
girl  now.  I  give  her  every  night  out  and  she  works 
like  a  dog  all  day  —  and  you  can  trust  her  with 
everything!  Can't  you,  Mr.  Roland? 

ROLAND.   You  can  trust  her  with  me  all  right. 
[MRS.  CRESPIGNY  laughs  loudly. 

BECKY.   Father ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Ain't  he  killing!  Do  you 
inherit  his  sense  of  humor?  He  can  get  anything 
he  wants  out  of  me  with  just  one  of  them  witty- 
cisms.  [ROLAND  winks  aside  to  BECKY.]  Of 
course,  I  won't  say  that  he  ain't  an  expensive 
boarder  —  [BECKY  sinks  in  the  chair  near  Centre, 
discouraged.}  —  but  I  consider  he  cuts  both  ways 
and  at  the  finish  the  ends  meets. 


THE    TRUTH  129 

BECKY.  I  think  I  gather  what  you  mean.  I'm 
afraid  you'll  lose  your  train  ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  I  mean  it's  hard  for  a  lady 
what's  got  it  in  her  blood,  to  take  boarders,  be 
cause  usually  the  boarders  is  beneath  what  the  lady's 
been  accustomed  to  and  she  don't  feel  at  home 
with  'em.  Now  with  your  father  it's  different, 
because  he's  a  Roland  and  I'm  a  Crespigny. 

BECKY.  Oh,  is  that  your  own  name?  I 
thought  — 

ROLAND.  [Interrupting.}  No,  Mrs.  Crespigny 's 
maiden  name  was  Ruggles. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Yes,  mamma  made  what 
we'd  call  a  messyliance,  married  beneath  her,  you 
know.  But  she  never  descended,  nor  allowed  us 
to  neither,  to  papa's  social  level.  Mamma  was 
a  O'Roorke.  You  know,  one  of  them  early 


130  THE    TRUTH 

high-toned    families    that    came    over   from    Am 
sterdam  in  the  Mayflower. 

BECKY.   I  see ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Mamma  often  said  to  me, 
says  she,  "Jennie"  — 

BECKY.  [With  her  patience  exhausted,  jumps  up, 
interrupting  her.]  I  must  say  good-by  now  —  I've 
no  time  to  dress. 

[She  hurries  out  Right. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Rising.]  Well,  do  you  think 
I  made  any  sort  of  a  hit  with  her  ? 

ROLAND.  My  dear  friend,  I've  told  you  before, 
you're  not  quite  my  daughter's  style. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  But  why  not?  She  seems 
real  refined. 

[ROLAND  groans.    WARDER  comes  in  Left.    He 
does  not  see  MRS.  CRESPIGNY  on  his  entrance. 

WARDER.   Hello,  father!    I  didn't  think  I  was 


THE    TRUTH  131 

going  to  have  this  pleasure.  I  had  an  engage 
ment  to  play  racquets  with  Billy  Weld,  but  he 
broke  down  in  his  motor  somewhere  between 
Tuxedo  and  here  and  I  couldn't  wait. 

[MRS.  CRESPIGNY  comes  a  few  steps  and  beckons 

to  ROLAND  to  introduce  WARDER. 
ROLAND.   Mrs.  Crespigny,  Mr.  Warder. 
MRS.    CRESPIGNY.   [Bows.]   Pleased    to    make 
your  acquaintance. 

[She  turns  away  with  a  rather  grand  manner. 
WARDER  looks  from  her  to  ROLAND  and  shakes 
his  head,  then  goes  to  the  writing-table  with 
some  letters  he  has  brought  in  from  the  hall. 
ROLAND.   Excuse    me    one    moment.    [Beckons 
to  MRS.   CRESPIGNY  and  whispers  to  her  aside.} 
Wait  for  me ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   In  the  hall? 
ROLAND.   Lord,  no!    At  the  station! 


132  THE    TRUTH 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Oh !  [Going,  she  turns  at 
door  to  bid  WARDER  good-by.]  If  you  should  ever 
be  coming  over  to  Baltimore,  Mr.  Warder,  why 

just  drop  in! 

[She  goes  out  Left. 

WARDER.   Where's  Becky? 

ROLAND.  [Going  to  him.]  She's  upstairs.  I 
just  wanted  to  thank  you  for  the  money  you  sent 
me  day  before  yesterday. 

WARDER.  What  money? 

ROLAND.  The  check  for  fifty  dollars  Becky 
mailed  me. 

WARDER.  [Starts,  but  controls  it  immediately.] 
Oh,  a  check  for  fifty  dollars  — 

ROLAND.   The  joke  on  me  is  that  what  I  wanted 

was  five  hundred ! 

[Digs  TOM  in  ribs. 

WARDER.  [Looking  off  where  BECKY  went, 
absorbed  in  his  thoughts.]  Oh,  five  hundred ! 


THE  TRUTH  133 

ROLAND.   Yes,    just    five    hundred.    [He    looks 
at  WARDER,  and  waits;    hums  a  song  and  dances 
a  few  steps.]   Nothing  doing,  I  suppose? 
WARDER.   No.     Father,  the  fact  is  — 
ROLAND.   Yes,   I  know,   Becky  told  me.     Ex 
cuse  me,  I've  got  to  catch  a  train.     Good-by,  my 
boy. 

WARDER.        [With     his     thoughts     elsewhere.] 
Good-by ! 

[ROLAND   goes  out    whistling  "Waiting  at  the 
Church."    WARDER  stands  a  moment  think 
ing,  then  takes  out  his  key  chain. 
SERVANT.    [Entering,  shows    in    LINDON.]   Mr. 
Lindon  to  see  Mrs.  Warder,  sir. 

[WARDER  looks  up  with  a  start,  which  he  im 
mediately   controls,    and   disguises    completely 
his  thoughts  and  emotions. 
LINDON.   How  are  you,  Warder? 


134  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  [Speaks  very  casually  and  pleasantly, 
with  complete  self-control]  Good  afternoon,  Lin- 
don.  [Sees  SERVANT  about  to  go  to  BECKY,  stops 
him.]  Jenks!  [JENKS  goes  to  him.  WARDER 
gives  him  a  key  from  his  chain.]  Go  to  my  room 
and  get  me  a  large  blue  envelope  from  the  upper 
right-hand  drawer  of  the  desk. 

JENKS.   Yes,  sir. 

[He  goes  out  Le/l.] 

WARDER.  Excuse  me,  Mrs.  Warder  is  out. 
She'll  be  sorry. 

LINDON.    [Surprised.]   Out? 

WARDER.  Yes. 

LINDON.  But  surely  there  must  be  some  mis 
take? 

WARDER.  No,  I'm  sorry.  I  assure  you  she's 
out. 

LINDON.   Oh !    Then  do  you  mind  if  I  wait  ? 


THE    TRUTH  135 

WARDER.  Is  that  scarcely  worth  while?  I 
must  be  off  at  once,  and  I  imagine  Mrs.  Warder 
is  out  for  her  usual  bridge  afternoon. 

LINDON.  I  think,  on  the  contrary,  she  must  be 
surely  coming  back,  and  if  you  don't  mind,  I'll 
wait. 

WARDER.  [IVilh  an  apparently  good  natured 
laugh.}  I  don't  like  to  insist  against  your  appar 
ently  superior  knowledge  — 

LINDON.  [Also  smiling.}  No,  no,  it's  only  a  note 
I  received  a  few  moments  ago  at  the  club.  Here 
it  is.  [Takes  it  from  his  pocket.}  That  she  must 
see  me  this  afternoon.  .  You  know  your  wife  is 
kindly  acting  as  intermediary  between  Eve  and 
myself.  It  is  in  regard  to  that.  [He  hands  the 
note  to  WTARDER,  who  glances  at  it  and  returns  it 
without  reading.}  As  it  only  came  half  an  hour  ago, 
I  feel  sure  Mrs.  Warder  must  expect  to  return  soon. 


136  THE    TRUTH 

SERVANT.  [Entering  with  an  envelope,  which 
he  gives  to  WARDER.]  That  is  all  I  can  find,  sir. 

WARDER.  [Humorously.]  That's  all  I  want, 
so  it's  all  right.  Jenks,  am  I  wrong  in  under 
standing  that  Mrs.  Warder  is  out? 

SERVANT.   Yes,  sir.     Mrs.  Warder  is  in,  sir. 

WARDER.    Oh !     I  beg  your  pardon,  Lindon. 

LINDON.   That's  all  right. 

WARDER.  [To  JENKS.]  Jenks,  say  to  Mrs. 
Warder,  Mr.  Lindon  is  here.  You  needn't  say 
anything  about  me.  I'm  off. 

SERVANT.   Yes,  sir. 

[Goes  out  Right. 

LINDON.   I'm  not  driving  you  away,  I  hope. 

WARDER.  Oh,  no,  I  have  some  important 
papers  to  go  over.  Make  yourself  comfortable. 
Good-by. 

LINDON.   Thanks,  old  man.     Good-by. 


THE    TRUTH  137 

[He  sits  on  the  sofa,  as  WARDER  goes  out  Left. 
LINDON.   Well !     She  did  send  for  you,  Freddy, 
old  son  !     Now's  your  chance ! 

SERVANT.    [Reentering.]    Mrs.    Warder    will   be     . 
down  at  once. 

LINDON.  Thank  you.  [The  SERVANT  goes  out 
Left.  LINDON  goes  to  the  piano  and  sings  a  verse 
of  a  song,  "Everything  comes  to  him  who  waits,"  • 
etc.  An  idea  comes  to  him.  He  weighs  it,  ac 
cepts  it,  smiles,  and  stops  playing.]  I  will!  By 
George,  I  will ! 

[He  rises. 

[BECKY  hurries  in  from  the  Right  and  goes 
quickly  toward  him,  crying,  "Fred!"  in  a  tone 
of  distress  and  excitement.  She  leaves  the 
door  open  behind  her.  LINDON,  before  she 
realizes  what  he  is  doing,  has  met  her,  taken 
her  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her.  She  forces 


1 38  THE    TRUTH 

herself  away  from  him,  standing  for  a  moment 
speechless  with  rage  and  astonishment. 

LINDON.   I  told  you,  didn't  I,  Becky? 

[Tries  to  embrace  her  again. 

BECKY.    [Slowly   and  deliberately.]   That's   just 
exactly  what  Tom  said  you'd  do! 

LINDON.   What  1 

BECKY.   Ten  to  one,  he  said,  if  I  sent  for  you 
again,  you'd  kiss  me. 

LINDON.   [In    alarm    and    astonishment.]  Yes, 
but  what  — 

BECKY.   But  I  wouldn't  believe  him!    I  said, 
and  I  believed,  he  did  you  an  injustice. 

LINDON.   So  you  talked  me  all  over  with  him, 
did  you !    Then  why  did  you  send  for  me  to-day  ? 

BECKY.   Because  I  was  a  fool,  if  you  want  the 
true  treason ! 

LINDON.   My  dear  Becky  — 


THE    TRUTH  139  . 

BECKY.  Oh,  you'll  hear  more  and  worse  than 
that  if  you  stay  to  listen !  I  advise  you  to  go ! 
You  can't  help  me.  I  don't  trust  you.  You 
might  even  make  matters  worse.  It  may  have 
been  all  done  purposely  as  it  is. 

LINDON.    Oh ! 

BECKY.  You  see  I'm  ready  to  believe  all  I've 
heard  of  you,  now  that  you've  shown  your  true 
silly  self  to  me  in  that  one  sickening  moment,  and 
I'd  rather  not  be  saved  at  all  than  be  saved  by 
you! 

[She  leans  for  a  second  against  the  corner  of 
the  writing-table. 

LINDON.   How  saved?    From  what? 

BECKY.  Never  mind !  I  only  want  to  say  one 
more  thing  to  you  and  then  go,  please.  But  I 
want  this  to  ring  in  your  ears  so  long  as  you  re 
member  me  !  There  is  only  one  man  in  this  world 


140  THE    TRUTH 

I  love,  and  that's  Tom,  and  there's  only  one  man 
I  despise  and  that's  you!  Lindon,  Fred  Lindon ! 
You  know  who  I  mean!  I  know  now  what  our 
friendship  meant  to  you  and  I  wish  I  could  cut 
out  of  my  life  every  second  of  every  hour  I've 
spent  with  you !  I've  been  a  fool  woman,  and 
you've  been  a  cad,  —  but  thank  God,  there  are 
men  in  the  world  —  real  men  —  and  one  is  my 
husband.  Now  go,  please !  Eve's  a  fool  not  to 
jump  at  the  chance  of  getting  rid  of  you  and  I 
shall  tell  her  so. 

[She  turns  away  jrom  him  with  a  movement 
of  dismissal. 

LINDON.  [Going  toward' her.]  Do!  For  that, 
at  least,  I  shall  thank  you,  as  well  as  for  our  delight 
ful  friendship,  which  I  am  sorry  to  have  end  so 
contrary  to  my  expectations. 

BECKY.    [With  her  eyes  down,  speaks  in  a  low, 


THE    TRUTH  141 

shamed  voice.}  This  room  is  too  small  for  you 
and  me  at  this  moment,  —  which  leaves  ? 

[He  smiles,  hesitates  a  moment,  then  sits  in  the 
arm-chair    at    Left.     BECKY    gives    a    half- 
smothered    exclamation    of    rage    and    starts 
to  leave  the  room.     LINDON  rises  quickly. 
LINDON.    No,  no,  I  was  only  joking !     I'm  sorry 
you  take  the  whole  affair  so  seriously.     Allow  me. 

[He  bows  and  goes  out  Left. 
BECKY.  [Stands  quietly  thinking  a  moment, 
then  makes  up  her  mind.]  Eve  herself  is  the  one 
to  help  me !  But  I  can't  go  to  her  till  I'm  sure 
she'll  listen  and  understand  —  Laura !  [She  sits 
by  the  table  and  takes  up  the  receiver  of  the  telephone.] 
Seven  eight  Plaza.  Yes!  It's  a  lady  this  time, 
so  I  hope  you  won't  have  to  listen !  Hello !  Is 
Miss  —  Oh,  is  that  you,  Laura  ?  Can  you  come 
over  at  once  ?  I  am  in  dreadful  trouble !  Oh, 


142  THE    TRUTH 

well,  after  dinner,  then  !  No,  I  was  going  out,  but 
I  won't  —  it's  too  important.  You  were  right  — 
and  Eve's  right  too.  Never  mind,  I  can't  tell 
you  over  the  'phone.  I'll  explain  everything  to 
night,  only  don't  fail  me.  You  can  prevent  a 
real  catastrophe  that  has  no  need  to  happen. 

—  Oh,  that's  all  right,  don't  stop  another  minute, 
then.     Thank  you  with  all  my  heart.    [She  hangs 
up  the  receiver,  gives  a  long  sigh,  and  sits  worriedly 
thinking.     WARDER   comes   in,   serious   but   calm. 
Looking  at  him,  half  frightened,  she  makes  a  great 
effort  to  be  natural,  and  to  be  in  a  good  humor.] 
Hello,  Tom !     Your  game  finished  already  ? 

WARDER.   We    didn't   play.     Weld    didn't   get 
back  to  town.     Any  callers? 
BECKY.   No. 
WARDER.   I   thought   I   saw  some  one  leaving 

—  from  the  top  of  the  street. 


THE    TRUTH  143 

BECKY.  Did  you  ?  Oh !  it  was  probably 
father;  he  came. 

WARDER.  No  I  spoke  with  your  father  some 
fifteen  minutes  ago.  He  told  me  about  the 
money  you  gave  him. 

[A  second's  pause;  BECKY  looks  down  and  then 

up  at  him. 

BECKY.   Are  you  angry? 

WARDER.   You  gave  me  your  word  you  wouldn't. 
BECKY.   But  I  was  so  sorry  for  him  —  that's 
why  he  came  to-day,  he  said  he  must  have  it; 
I  couldn't  refuse  him  and  you  weren't  here! 

WARDER.  He  said  you  mailed  him  my  check 
day  before  yesterday. 

[BECKY  is  silent,  trapped,  frightened.    A  pause, 

then  she  speaks  in  a  low  -voice. 
BECKY.  I'm  so  sorry  — 

[A  second's  pause. 


144  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  It  looked  to  me  like  Fred  L5ndon. 
[BECKY,  more  frightened,  realizing  -what  is 
hanging  over  her,  like  a  drowning  person 
who  cannot  swim,  flounders  helplessly  about 
in  the  next  few  speeches,  trying  to  save  herself 
by  any  and  every  means  that  she  thinks  may 
help  her  for  the  moment. 

BECKY.    Well,  I'll  be  honest,  it  was  Fred  Lindon  ! 

WARDER.    [Anger    getting    the    best    of    him.] 

After   everything  —  your    word    of    honor,    Eve's 

accusations,    my   absolute   desire  —  you   sent   for 

him  to  come  and  see  you ! 

BECKY.  No,  no,  you  mustn't  think  that,  Tom! 
He  came  of  his  own  accord  of  course, — I  suppose 
to  see  if  I  would  see  him !  I  didn't  know  it ! 

WARDER.  [Wary,  suspicious,  to  lead  her  on.] 
Then  why  did  you  see  him?  You  could  easily 
excuse  yourself. 


THE    TRUTH  145 

BECKY.  No,  you  don't  understand.  [She  floun 
ders  hopelessly.]  I  didn't  know  it  was  he!  Don't 
you  see? 

WARDER.   No,  I  don't  see ! 

[Watches  her  with  a  face  growing  harder  and 
harder  with  each  lie  she  tells. 

BECKY.  But  I'm  telling  you  —  it  was  just 
like  this ;  I  was  upstairs  and  Jenks  came  —  and 
said  a  gentleman  wanted  to  see  me  in  the  draw 
ing-room.  Just  that,  don't  you  see  —  a  gentle 
man.  [She  sees  the  doubting  look  in  his  face  and 
mistaking  it,  tries  to  make  her  story  more  plausible.} 
I  was  surprised  too,  and  said  "Who?"  and  Jenks 
said  the  gentleman  gave  no  name  —  [He  turns 
sharply  away  from  her,  unable  to  face  her  as  she 
tells  the  lies.]  Yes,  I  know  it  was  funny  —  I 
thought  so  then.  I  suppose  Jenks  considered 
it  a  joke,  —  and  I  suppose  he  didn't  give  his 

L 


146  THE    TRUTH 

name  for  that  very  reason,  for  fear  I  wouldn't 

see  him  —  [WARDER,  looking  up  as  i/  to  stop  her, 

sees  the  door  Right  open  and  quickly  closes  it.] 

Of    course    the  moment   I    came  into  the  room 

and  saw  who    it  was,  I  excused    myself,  and  he 

left. 

WARDER.  [In  a  -voice  not  loud  but  full  of  anger 
and  emotion.]  Lies!  all  of  it!  Every  word  a  lie, 
and  another  and  another  and  another ! 

BECKY.   [Breathless  with  /right,  gasping.]   Tom! 

WARDER.  [Going  to  her.]  You  sent  for  him! 
[She  is  too  frightened  to  speak,  but  she  shakes  her 
head  in  a  last  desperate  effort  at  denial.]  Don't 
shake  your  head !  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about 
and  for  the  first  time  with  you,  I  believe !  [She 
puts  up  her  hands  helplessly  and  backs  away  from 
him.]  I  saw  your  note  to  him!  [She  starts  with  a 
sense  of  anger  added  to  her  other  emotions.]  I 


THE    TRUTH  147 

read  it  here,  in  this  room ;  he  gave  it  to  me  before 
you  came  down. 

BECKY.   The  beast! 

WARDER.  [With  biting  satire.]  You're  going 
to  misjudge  him  too ! 

BECKY.  No,  Tom,  I'll  tell  you  the  truth  and 
all  of  it! 

WARDER.    Naturally,  now  you've  got  to/ 

BECKY.  No  —  wait !  I  did  send  for  him  —  it 
was  to  tell  him  about  those  papers  of  Eve's. 

WARDER.  Yes,  you  must  plan  your  escape 
together ! 

BECKY.  No !  because  I  still  believed  he  was 
decent.  I  thought  it  was  his  duty,  that  he  would 
claim  it  as  his  right,  to  prevent  such  a  scandal  as 
Eve  threatened  to  make,  which  he  knew  I  didn't 
deserve. 

WARDER.   Hah ! 


148  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  You  may  sneer,  but  I  don't!  Yes, 
I  broke  my  promise  to  you  —  what  else  could 
I  do?  You  wouldn't  let  me  send  for  him!  And 
he  came!  And  he  did  what  you  said  he  would. 
He  took  me  in  his  arms  before  I  could  stop  him, 
and  kissed  me. 

[She  bends  over  the  back  0}  the  chair  at  Centre 
on  which  she  is  leaning,  and  sobs. 

WARDER.  [Goes  to  her,  speaking  with  bitter 
irony.]  Charming!  And  you  turned  on  him,  of 
course !  Played  the  shocked  and  surprised  wife 
and  ordered  him  out  of  the  house! 

BECKY.  Yes.  But  I  did!  Why  do  you  speak 
as  if  I  didn't? 

WARDER.   Do  you  expect  me  to  believe  this,  too  ? 

BECKY.  [Facing  him.]  I  don't  expect,  you've 
got  to! 

WARDER.   Do  you  think  you  can  go  on  telling 


THE  TRUTH  149 

lies  forever  and  I'll  go  on  blindly  believing  them 
as  I  have  for  three  years? 

BECKY.  Even  you  couldn't  have  turned  on 
him  with  more  anger  and  disgust  than  I  did ! 

WARDER.  I  couldn't  believe  you  if  I  wanted  to ! 
You've  destroyed  every  breath  of  confidence  in 
me! 

BECKY.   It's  the  truth  I'm  telling  you  now ! 

WARDER.  In  everything  —  everything  that  has 
come  up  since  my  eyes  were  first  forced  half  open 

—  you  have  told  me  a  lie ! 

BECKY.   It's  the  truth !     It's  the  truth ! 

WARDER.  [Continues,  hardly  hearing  her.]  The 
money  to  your  father,  the  first  lie,  and  to-day  made 
a  double  one !  All  this  rotten  evidence  of  Eve's 

—  another  dozen !     Your  promise  that  Lindon's 
visit  Thursday  should  be  his  last,  the  next ! 

BECKY.   I  meant  it  then  —  I  meant  it  truthfully. 


150  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.  [Ignoring  her  interruption.}  His  visit 
after  all  to-day  —  that  led  of  course  to  a  mass  of 
lies !  And  then  the  truth  !  He  kissed  you !  And 
then  another  lie  and  another  dozen  to  try  and  save 
yourself ! 

BECKY.  [Quietly,  in  a  hushed,  frightened  voice.] 
By  everything  in  this  world  and  in  the  next  that 
I  hold  dear  and  reverence,  I've  told  you  the  truth 
at  last. 

WARDER.  You  don't  know  what's  true  when 
you  hear  it  or  when  you  speak  it !  I  could  never 
believe  in  you  again !  Never  have  confidence ! 
How  could  I?  Ask  any  .man  in  the  world,  and 
his  answer  would  be  the  same! 

[He  turns  and  goes  away  from  her,  to  control 
his  anger,  which  threatens  to  get  the  best  of 
him. 

BECKY.      [Sobbing.]     No,    no,    To™'     Don't! 


THE  TRUTH  151 

don't  say  that !  You  must  believe  in  me !  You 
must  believe  in  me ! 

WARDER.  [After  a  pause,  collects  himself  and 
comes  to  the  writing-table.}  Becky,  you  and  I  must 
say  good-by  to  each  other.  We  must  finish 
separately.  [A  silence.  She  looks  at  him  in 
dumb  horror  and  surprise.}  Do  you  under 
stand  ? 

BECKY.   [In  a  low  voice.]  No ! 

WARDER.  We  must  separate.  Quietly  —  no 
fuss,  no  divorce  unless  you  wish  it.  [4  pause, 
she  does  not  answer.  He  goes  toward  her  and 
repeats.}  No  divorce  unless  you  wish  it. 

BECKY.  [With  simple  but  deep  pathos.}  I  love 
you. 

WARDER.  You  must  stay  on  in  the  house  for 
the  present,  till  you  can  make  your  plans.  That 
will  help  keep  the  thing  quiet,  too. 


1 52  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  Tom !  Do  you  really  mean  all  you're 
saying?  Do  you  realize  what  it  must  mean  for 
me  —  for  both  of  us  ? 

WARDER.   Yes. 

BECKY.   To-morrow,  perhaps  —  ? 

WARDER.  No.  I  shall  go  to  Boston  to-night 
for  a  few  days;  when  I  come  back,  you  may  have 
settled  on  something.  If  you  haven't,  I  can  manage 
all  right.  I  don't  want  to  press  you  about  that, 
only  — 

BECKY.  I  will  not  stay  in  your  house  one  single 
day  without  you. 

WARDER.  You'll  have  to!  My  price  for  hush 
ing  up  Lindon  and  Eve,  and  every  one  else,  is 
that  you  on  your  side  act  with  dignity,  and  as  I 
think  wisest. 

BECKY.  [Going  to  the  arm-chair  at  Left.]  No ! 
A  woman  like  me  whose  heart  is  breaking,  whether 


THE    TRUTH  153 

she's   right  or  wrong,   can't   act  like   that.     She 
can't  do  iff 

[She  sinks  into  the  chair,   bursting  into  tears. 
WARDER.    [Beside    her.]   Try.     For    your    sake 
as  well  as  mine.     Good-by,  Becky. 

BECKY.    [With    the    tears    choking    her    voice. ] 
I   told  you   the   truth  the  last  time.     Oh,   can't 
you  believe  me  ? 
WARDER.   No  —  good-by. 

[Going. 

BECKY.   I    love    you    and    only   you    and    you 
always  — 

WARDER.    [Turns   in   the   doorway.]   The    club 
address  will  reach  me ! 

[He  goes  out,  closing  the  door  behind  him.  BECKY'' 
sits  still  a  moment  thinking;  then  she  goes 
to  the  writing-table,  rings  the  bell,  and  takes 
up  a  time-table.  Her  hands  drop  upon  the 


I54  THE    TRUTH 

table  in  utter  dejection  and  her  head  lowers 
as  the  tears  come  again  fast  and  thick. 

SERVANT.    [Entering  Left.]  Yes,  madam? 

BECKY.  [Controlling  her  emotion  and  hiding 
as  best  she  can  the  traces  of  it.]  Tell  Perkins  to 
pack  my  small  trunk  and  hand-bag.  I  am  going 
to  Baltimore  to  spend  a  day  or  so  with  my  father. 

SERVANT.   Yes,  madam. 

BECKY.   And  then  come  back,  please. 

SERVANT.   Very  good,  madam. 

[Goes  out. 

BECKY.  [Takes  up  the  telephone.]  Hello!  708 
Plaza.  [As  she  listens  for  the  answer  she  looks 
about  the  room,  the  control  goes  from  her  face,  and 
the  tears  come  once  more;  she  brushes  them  away 
and  tries  to  speak  in  a  conventional  tone  without 
displaying  her  emotion,  which  is  however  plainly 
evident.]  Hello,  I  want  Miss  Eraser,  please.  .  .  . 


THE    TRUTH  155 

Oh,  ask  her  to  call  me  the  minute  she's  free, 
please.  Mrs.  Warder.  [She  hangs  up  the  receiver 
and  writes.]  "I  am  leaving  now.  You  will  at 
least  believe  that  I  cannot  turn  you  out  of  your 
house,  nor  can  I  live  in  it  one  single  day  without 
you.  It  is  ready  waiting  for  you  as  I  shall  be  all 
the  rest  of  my  life  if  you  can  ever  again  believe  —  " 

[She  stops  as  the  SERVANT  enters  and  comes 
to  her. 

SERVANT.   Madam  ? 

[BECKY  finishes  writing  silently. 

BECKY.  [Sealing  the  note.]  Has  Mr.  Warder 
gone  yet? 

SERVANT.  Only  just  this  second  went  out, 
madam.  He  told  me  to  pack  his  bag  and  meet 
him  at  the  station  with  it. 

BECKY.  [Rising.]  Give  this  to  Mr.  Warder 
with  his  things 


156  THE    TRUTH 

[Gives  the  note. 

SERVANT.  Yes,  madam. 

[He  goes  out  Left.     The  telephone  bell  rings. 

BECKY.  [Going  to  the  table,  sits,  and  takes  up 
the  receiver.  Again  she  does  her  best  to  keep 
the  emotion  out  of  her  voice,  but  only  partly  suc 
ceeds.]  Hello!  Laura?  I'm  so  sorry,  after  all, 
I  can't  see  you  to-night.  Tom  has  been  called 
to  —  Chicago  suddenly  on  business  —  yes,  isn't  it 
too  bad?  And  I've  had  a  telegram  that  father 
isn't  very  well,  so  I  am  taking  the  five-twenty  train 
to  Baltimore.  Yes,  I'll  write.  No,  I  don't  think 
he's  seriously  ill.  Good-by! 

[She  hangs  up  the  receiver,  dropping  her  head 
on  the  table  and  sobbing  heart-brokenly  as 

THE  CURTAIN   FALLS 


ACT  III 

The  same  night.    At  Mr.  Roland's  rooms  in  Mrs. 
Crespigny's  flat,  Baltimore. 


ACT  III 

MR.  ROLAND'S  rooms  in  MRS.  CRESPIGNY'S  flat 
in  Baltimore.  This  is  the  parlor  of  a  cheap  flat, 
with  the  bedroom,  through  an  arch,  originally  in 
tended  for  the  dining  room  and  lit  by  a  narrow 
window  on  a  well.  There  is  red  paper  on  the 
walls  and  red  globes  for  the  electric  lights.  An 
ugly  set  of  furniture,  with  many  tidies,  a  strange 
conglomeration  of  cheap  feminine  "nick-nacks" 
relieved  by  a  sporting  print  or  two,  a  frame  of 
prize  ribbons,  and  a  few  other  masculine  belong 
ings  which  have  been  added  to  the  original  con 
dition  of  the  room,  like  a  thin  coat  of  paint.  At 

back  is  a  bow-window  beside  a  sofa.     On  the  Left 
159 


l6o  THE    TRUTH 

is  the  opening  into  the  bedroom,  and  beside  this 
a  door  leads  to  the  hall.  There  is  a  centre-table 
with  chairs  on  either  side  and  a  Morris  chair 
down  on  the  Right.  A  sideboard  in  the  upper 
Left  corner. 

ROLAND  and  MRS.  CRESPIGNY  are  playing  piquet 
at  the  centre-table.  A  "Teddy  Bear"  with  a 
pink  ribbon  bow  about  its  neck  is  sitting  on  the  table 
near  MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  They  play  on  through 
part  of  the  scene.  ROLAND  slops  to  light  a 
cigarette,  and  MRS.  CRESPIGNY  takes  advantage 
0}  the  pause  to  powder  her  face  and  preen  herself 
in  a  pocket  mirror. 
MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  You  don't  think  you  smoke 

too  many  of  them? 
ROLAND.   If  my  smoking  is  disagreeable  to  you, 

I  might  spend  my  evenings  at  the  club. 

MRS.   CRESPIGNY.   You  know  different!    You 


THE    TRUTH  161 

can't  make  that  an  excuse  for  skinning  out  of 
spending  your  evenings  at  home.  I  only  wish't  I 
smoked  'em  myself.  I've  read  in  the  papers  that 
real  ladies  do  now  —  but  I  guess  it's  the  fast  set, 
and  I  always,  was  conservative. 

ROLAND.  [Playing.]  Don't  talk;  study  your 
cards.  If  you  don't  take  care,  you'll  win ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Will  I?  Excuse  me,  I 
wasn't  thinking.  [She  plays  a  card,  and  as  RO 
LAND  takes  the  trick  she  takes  up  her  mirror  and 
examines  wrinkles.}  I  believe  I'll  have  massage. 
I  heard  of  a  fine  massoor  yesterday. 

ROLAND.   Masseuse,  you  mean,  I  hope. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Massoor!  Massoose  is  plu 
ral.  The  singular  is  massoor.  You  forget  I 
was  educated  in  New  Orleans. 

[She  rises  and  goes  to  the  sideboard  and  pours 
out  a  brandy  and  soda. 

M 


1 62  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.   Where's  my  brandy  and  soda? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   I'm  getting  it. 

[Bringing  the  glass  down  to  the  table. 

ROLAND.  That's  a  good  girl.  Thank  you, 
Mrs.  Crespigny. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Ain't  it  funny,  good  friends 
as  we've  been  for  so  long  now,  we've  kep'  on 
calling  each  other  "Mr."  and  "Mrs."?  S'pose  it 
wouldn't  be  etiquay  to  call  each  other  by  our  first 
names. 

ROLAND.   Etiquette. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Etiquay !  You  can  correct 
my  English  when  you  want  to,  but  my  French 
I've  kep'  pure  since  school,  and  I  remember 
perfeckly  —  all  words  ending  in  e-t  you  per- 
nounce  A. 

ROLAND.  What  is  your  first  name? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   Genevieve,  but  I  was  always 


THE    TRUTH  163 

called  Jenny  by  my  first  h  — !  I  mean  —  I  was 
always  called  Jenny  by  my  schoolgirl  friends. 

ROLAND.    [Playing.]  Very  interesting. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Playing.]  I  think  your  first 
name's  real  pretty ! 

ROLAND.  [Taking  the  trick.]  Tut,  tut !  You're 
getting  too  skittish,  Mrs.  Crespigny. 

[She  laughs  a  little  embarrassedly. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   It's  your  fault ! 

ROLAND.  [Playing  card,  and  laughing.]  Then 
I  apologize ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Playing  card,  and  giggling.] 
Oh,  you  needn't ! 

ROLAND.  [Laughing  more  at  her  than  with  her, 
but  realizing  that  she  will  not  know  the  difference.} 
I  insist. 

[He  takes  the  trick. 

MRS.    CRESPIGNY.   Anybody'd    think    we    was 


1 64  THE    TRUTH 

engaged  to  be  married  or  something  of  that  sort, 

wouldn't  they? 

ROLAND.   I  hope  not ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Oh,  I  don't  know !  I  re 
member  some  postal  cards  what  I've  read  that 
might  be  construed  to  lean  that  way.  [ROLAND 
rises  and  gets  a  cigarette  from  the  box  on  the  table 
in  the  bow-window.}  There  was  one  from  Atlantic 
City  that  was  just  too  sweet  for  anything!  You 
sent  it  after  we  had  that  ridickerlous  quarrel  on 
the  board  walk. 
.  ROLAND.  What  about? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  I  lost  my  self-respect  and 
asked  you  to  kiss  me,  'cause  you  said  you  was 
grateful  for  the  fifty  dollars  I  gave  you  for  your 
poker  losses  the  night  before.  And  you  handed 
me  back  my  money  and  said  if  that  was  the  price 
of  the  loan  —  oh,  how  you  hurt  my  feelings ! 


THE    TRUTH  165 

[With  a  touch  of  futile  emotion. 

ROLAND.    [Coming  back  to  his  chair.}   That  was 

only  a  bluff!     Come  along,  I'll  play  you  a  game 

for  the  whole  bunch  of  postal  cards. 

[Takes  up  the  second  deck  and  shuffles. 
MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Rising,  speaks  rather 
grandly.}  Nobody  won't  never  get  them  postal 
cards  from  me  except  over  my  dead  body.  [Cuts 
the  cards,  and  ROLAND  deals.}  And  I  intend  to 
refer  to  'em  every  chance  I  get  in  hopes  that  some 
day  —  just  in  a  desperate  fit,  maybe  —  you'll  up 

and  marry  me  to  stop  me. 

[Sits  again. 
ROLAND.    Go     on,     play. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  You've  owned  up  you're 
comfortable  in  my  cute  little  flat  —  and  I  don't 
nag. 

[Both  take  up  their  hands,  both  play,  and  she 
takes  trick. 


1 66  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.  You  haven't  the  right,  but  as  my  wife 
—  nay,  nay,  Pauline. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  You've  got  the  best  rooms 
here,  and  if  you  ever  do  pay  any  board,  don't  I 
lend  it  right  back  to  you  the  next  day? 

ROLAND.  Isn't  it  a  little  indelicate  to  remind 
me  of  that,  Mrs.  Crespigny? 

[Playing. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Getting  a  little  angry.]  Well, 
I  guess  the  indelicacy's  even !  [She  plays  and 
starts  to  take  the  trick.  He  stops  her  and  takes  it 
himself.}  Oh,  excuse  me,  I'm  at  your  beck  and  nod, 
and  I've  even  so  far  forgot  my  family  pride  as  to 
hint  that  you  wasn't  unacceptable  to  me  in  a 
nearer  relation. 

ROLAND.  There  you  go  again!  Keep  off  the 
thin  ice! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   [Throws  down  her  cards  and 


THE  TRUTH  167 

loses  her  temper  outright.]  Well,  why  won't  you 
marry  me?  I  may  have  forgot  my  pride,  but  I 
never  forget  myself.  You  know  you  wouldn't 
dare  step  over  the  invisible  line  between  the  dumb 
waiter  and  the  bath-room,  what  separates  your 
apartment  from  mine  in  the  flat. 

ROLAND.  One  moment,  please.  Have  I  ever 
even  hinted  at  taking  the  slightest  advantage  of 
your  unprotected  position  in  this  house?  [He 
rises  in  mock  dignity.]  Who's  kept  further  from 
that  invisible  line,  you  or  I? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Well,  I  must  say  you've 
always  behaved  toward  me  like  a  perfect  gentle 
man.  [He  sits  again  and  takes  another  cigarette.] 
But  jes'  let's  speak  the  truth  —  if  you  can  about 
anything !  [He  fumbles  in  his  vest  pockets.] 
Matches?  [She  rises,  goes  to  the  sideboard,  and 
finding  a  box  o)  matches,  brings  it  back  to  the  table. 


1 68  THE    TRUTH 

During  the  first  part  of  the  following  speech  she 
makes  nervous  and  ineffectual  efforts  to  strike 
matches,  in  each  case  breaking  off  the  heads  without 
any  result.]  You  know  you  ain't  wanted  at  your 
clubs;  that's  why  you  first  took  to  playin'  even 
ings  with  me  —  that,  and  'cause  I  was  easy !  You 
know  that  here  in  Baltimore  you're  called  a  tout, 
a  broken-down  gambler,  and  a  has-been,  but  I've 
always  hoped  you  was  a  will-be  for  me.  [Irri 
tated  by  her  repeated  failures,  he  takes  the  match 
box  from  her  and  lights  his  cigarette  with  the  first 
match  he  strikes.]  You  know  your  old  friends'd 
rather  go  'round  the  block  than  stop  and  talk  to 
you  in  the  street.  Yes,  you  know  it  as  well  as  I 
do !  And  you've  lived  off  me,  borrowed  money 
of  me,  led  me  to  caring  for  you,  let  me  take  care 
of  you  as  if  you  was  —  my  own  child,  and  I've 
saved  you  from  bein'  a  drunken  sot!  [Her  voice 


THE  TRUTH  169 

fills  uilh  tears,  but  her  anger  gets  the  best  of  her,  and 
she  finishes  strongly,  striking  the  table  uith  her 
beringed  hand  as  she  leans  across  toicard  him.} 
Now,  why  ain't  I  good  enough  for  you  ? 

ROLAND.  [Rising,  really  angry,  and  his  dig 
nity  offended.]  Mrs.  Crespigny  — 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Oh,  you  needn't  get  on  your 
high  horse  or  I'll  win  this  rubber  for  the  five  hun 
dred  !  I  know  you're  worthless,  and  I  know 
you  don't  always  tell  the  truth,  but  through  it 
all  you've  been  a  real  gentleman  to  me,  and  I 
realized  yesterday,  when  I  thought  you  was  gone 
for  good,  what  it  meant  to  me.  I'm  a  decent 
woman,  Mr.  Roland,  if  I  am  a  fool,  and  I  swear 
I'm  good  enough  for  you! 

ROLAND.  So  far  as  that  goes,  you're  too  good 
for  me,  but  I've  got  others  to  consider.  My 
daughter  — 


170  THE    TRUTH 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Interrupting  him.]  Yes,  I 
know  she's  against  me.  [She  sits  again,  and  with 
determination.]  Well,  I'm  against  her,  and  per 
haps  some  day  I'll  have  a  chance  to  pay  her  back ! 

ROLAND.  That's  talking  foolishly!  In  the  first 
place,  my  allowance  would  stop  the  day  I  married. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Well,  haven't  I  got  enough 
for  two  ?  It's  looked  mighty  like  it  the  last  couple 
a  years. 

[She  nervously  takes  the  "Teddy  Bear"  jrom 
the  table  to  hide  her  embarrassment  at  her  bold 
ness,  and  laying  it  flat  on  her  knee,  /ace  down 
ward,  relies  the  pink  bow  on  its  neck. 

ROLAND.  [Sitting,  he  gathers  the  cards  together 
and  shuffles  them.]  Come,  come,  here  we  are 
again  on  one  of  those  useless  discussions.  Come 
along,  give  me  another  brandy  and  soda. 

MRS.     CRESPIGNY.     [Resignedly.]     All     right. 


THE    TRUTH  171 

[Rises,  and  takes  his  glass,  replacing  the  "Teddy 
Bear"  on  the  table.}  This  will  be  your  second 
before  twelve  o'clock  and  it's  got  to  be  a  little 
weakish.  [She  goes  to  the  sideboard.  The  }ront 
door-bell  is  heard  ring.]  My  goodness !  who  can 

that  be? 

[The  bell  rings  again. 

ROLAND.    Don't  know,  old  girl,  but  go  on,  I'll 

deal  for  you. 

[He  deals. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Going  to  the  table,  cuts  the 
cards.]  I  just  love  to  have  you  call  me  "old  girl"  — 
it  seems  so  nice  and  familiar. 

[The  bell  rings  again,  and  MRS.  CRESPIGNY, 
taking  the  "Teddy  Bear"  with  her,  places  it 
on  the  side  table  at  Left  and  goes  out.  RO 
LAND  deals.  After  a  moment's  pause  BECKY 
comes  in,  carrying  a  hand-bag.  She  enters 
with  an  air  of  bravado,  which  fades  instantly 


172  THE    TRUTH 

that  she  observes  ROLAND   does   not  see   her. 
Bui   her   pathetic,   timid   look    -vanishes    im 
mediately  -when  he  looks  tip. 
ROLAND.    [Going  on  dealing,  without  looking  tip.] 
Who  was  it? 

BECKY.    [With  forced  gayety.}   Hello,  father! 
ROLAND.   Good  Heavens! 
BECKY.   [Putting  her  bag  on  the  table  at  Left.] 
Aren't  you  surprised? 
ROLAND.   [Dryly.]  Very. 
BECKY.   And  pleased? 

ROLAND.   Where  in  the  world  did  you  come 
from? 

BECKY.   New  York;    the  next  train  after  you. 
Give  me  a  kiss.    How  are  you  ? 

[Kisses  him. 

ROLAND.   What  have  you  come  for  ?    Where  are 
you  stopping? 


THE    TRUTH  173 

BECKY.   Here! 

ROLAND.   At  what  hotel? 

BECKY.   No  hotel  —  here  with  you! 

ROLAND.  Nonsense !  There's  no  place  for  you 
in  the  flat. 

BECKY.  Why  not?  I  gave  my  check  to  the 
expressman  and  my  trunk  will  be  around  in  the 
morning. 

ROLAND.  These  two  rooms  are  all  I  have. 
[Showing  the  opening  to  the  Left.]  Take  a  look 
at  the  bedroom  —  a  beastly,  dark  little  hole  with 
one  window  that  doesn't  look  out,  —  it  looks  in ! 
The  bedroom  of  the  flat  we  use  for  a  dining  room. 
Mrs.  Crespigny  sleeps  in  the  servant's  room  —  so 
she  tells  me. 

BECKY.   Father ! 

ROLAND.  Now  you  can  see  what  nice  sort  of 


174  THE    TRUTH 

surroundings  your  poor  old  father's  had  to  put 

up  with  these  last  years. 

BECKY.  [Takes  off  her  hat  and  cloak  and  puts 
them  on  so/a  at  Right.]  You  have  only  yourself 
to  blame!  You  could  live  splendidly  on  the  al 
lowance  Tom  makes  you  in  the  one  club  you've 
got  left. 

ROLAND.  You  needn't  take  off  your  things, 
you  can't  stay  here. 

BECKY.  Oh,  can't  I?  I've  come  to  pay  you  a 
little  visit,  and  here  I  stay  to-night  and  several 
nights. 

[Comes  to  the  centre-table   and  starts  to  collect 
cards. 

ROLAND.  Be  careful !  That's  Genevieve's  hand 
and  we  must  finish  this  sometime  —  I'm  well 
ahead.  [Carefully  places  the  cards,  properly  di 
vided,  on  the  table  at  Left.]  And  really,  Becky, 


THE  TRUTH  175 

you  can't  stay  here.  You  can  go  to  a  hotel  if  you 
want  to,  or  back  to  New  York.  You're  in  the 
way  here !  I'm  an  old  man;  this  sort  of  thing  up 
sets  me !  There's  no  room  and  there's  no  bed 
for  you.  [Crosses  to  the  Morris  chair  and  sits.] 
What  the  devil  do  you  mean,  turning  up  here  well 
toward  midnight,  and  threatening  to  stay,  when 
for  years  I've  been  trying  to  get  you  to  come  to 
Baltimore,  and  you  know  you  were  ashamed  to 
come? 

BECKY.  [Sitting  in  the  chair  Left  o)  the  centre- 
table.]  That  isn't  true,  father;  I  always  said  I'd 
come  if  you'd  give  up  certain  things. 

ROLAND.  Well,  I  haven't  given  them  up,  so 
why  have  you  come?  What's  the  joke?  ^nd 
where's  Tom? 

BECKY.  [After  a  second's  pause.}  That's  just 
it.  Tom  has  been  called  to  —  San  Francisco  — 


176  THE    TRUTH 

suddenly  —  just  after  you  left,  on  business  —  and 
the  idea  came  to  me,  at  last  I'll  make  that  visit  to 
father!  It'll  be  a  good  chance  for  me  to  settle 
Mrs.  Crespigny,  too ! 

ROLAND.  You  couldn't  have  come  at  a  more 
inopportune  time !  I  was  very  busy  this  evening. 

BECKY.  Yes,  I  know,  —  piquet  with  Mrs.  C. ! 
I'll  finish  it  with  you. 

[Rises  and  goes  to  get  the  cards. 

ROLAND.  No,  you  won't !  You'll  go  to  a  hotel 
for  the  night  and  I'll  come  and  have  a  decent  lunch 
with  you  to-morrow. 

BECKY.  I  can't  go  to  a  hotel.  I've  come  away 
without  a  penny.  I  had  to  borrow  half  the  money 
for  my  ticket  from  Perkins. 

ROLAND.   Where  is  Perkins? 

BECKY.  In  New  York.  I  knew,  of  course, 
there'd  be  no  place  for  her  here. 


THE    TRUTH  177 

ROLAND.  Any  of  the  hotel  people  here  will 
trust  you. 

BECKY.  I  won't  ask  them.  I  forgot  to  get 
Tom's  address,  so  I  can't  send  to  him  for  any 
money.  I've  got  to  stay  with  you,  father. 

[She  sits  on  the  arm  0}  the  Morris  chair  and  puts 
her  arm  about  her  father. 

ROLAND.   You're  a  very  boring  person ! 

BECKY.  That's  a  kind  welcome  for  a  dear  and 
only  daughter ! 

ROLAND.  And  I'm  not  going  to  have  myself 
made  uncomfortable  by  you ! 

BECKY.  Please  let  me  stay  for  a  day  or  two, 
maybe  a  little  longer  or  maybe  not  so  long.  I'll 
promise  not  to  be  any  trouble;  I'll  sleep  on  the 
sofa! 

ROLAND.  Humph!  You  don't  know  that  sofa! 
That  was  made  in  the  antebellum  and  the  ante- 


178  THE    TRUTH 

springum  days !  Even  a  cat  couldn't  sleep  on  it 
without  chloroform. 

BECKY.  Well,  I  don't  expect  to  sleep,  father, 
and  if  I  don't,  you  won't  know  it.  I've  got  to 
stay. 

[Rises  and  goes  away  and  stands  by  the  table  with 
her  back  toward  him. 

ROLAND.  [Looks  at  her,  suddenly  suspicious.] 
Becky,  you're  not  telling  me  the  truth.  Some 
thing's  the  matter. 

BECKY.  [Turning  toward  him,  taking  a  high 
moral  stand.]  Really,  father ! 

ROLAND.  There's  something  wrong.  What  is 
it? 

BECKY.   Nothing. 

ROLAND.  Oh,  come,  I'm  your  father,  and  I 
know  the  look  in  your  eyes  when  you're  not  telling 
the  truth;  you  get  that  look  from  me!  You're 


THE    TRUTH  179 

telling  me  a  lie  —  tell  me  the  truth.  What  does 
it  mean? 

BECKY.  [After  a  second's  pause,  bursts  out  with 
all  her  pent-up  feelings,  which  she  has  been  trying 
to  hide.]  I've  left  Tom. 

ROLAND.   How  do  you  mean  —  "Left  Tom"? 

BECKY.  Left  him  for  good.  I'll  never  live 
with  him  again. 

ROLAND.   Nonsense ! 

BECKY.   Never!     You  don't  understand. 

[She  sits  again  beside  the  table,  leaning  her  elbows 
upon  it  and  resting  her  face  between  her  two 
hands. 

ROLAND.   No,  I  don't!    and  I  don't  want  to! 

BECKY.  I've  left  his  house  in  New  York  for 
good. 

ROLAND.  What's  your  reason?  What's  he 
done? 


i8o  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.   He's  deceived  me. 

ROLAND.   [Rising.]  Tom!    Never! 

BECKY.  Father,  I  can't  go  back  to  him;  I 
can't!  Don't  ask  me  any  more  questions,  only 
keep  me  with  you  —  please,  keep  me  with  you.  .  .  . 

ROLAND.  [Going  to  her.]  You're  upset  about 
matters.  You've  had  a  quarrel,  that's  all,  and 
you're  going  back  to-night. 

BECKY.  No.  I've  told  him  I'll  never  come 
back  and  I've  come  to  stay  —  with  you. 

ROLAND.  But  I  won't  have  it!  In  the  first 
place,  Mrs.  Crespigny  wouldn't  have  it  either. 
She'd  be  jealous  of  your  being  here  —  and  after 
all  it's  her  flat.  And  I  don't  believe  what  you  tell 
me  about  Tom. 

BECKY.  We  can  go  somewhere  else.  Who  is 
Mrs.  Crespigny?  [Rises,  and  going  to  him  takes 
hold  0}  his  sleeve.]  And  I'm  your  daughter. 


THE  TRUTH  181 

Besides,  Tom's  allowance  will  stop.  From  now 
on  you  and  I  must  get  on  together  with  the  little 
money  I  have  from  mother. 

ROLAND.  Nothing  of  the  sort.  Even  if  you 
did  leave  Tom,  you  can  make  him  take  care  of 
you. 

BECKY.  I  won't  take  any  money  from  Tom! 
No  more  money!  Do  you  hear  me,  father? 

ROLAND.  {Becoming  more  angry.]  No,  I  don't 
hear  you !  And  I  have  something  to  say  about 
my  end  of  all  this,  which  is  that  you've  got  to  go 
back  to  your  husband  before  it's  too  late  for  him 
to  take  you  back,  and  give  him  a  chance  to  ex 
plain  !  You'll  go  back  to  Tom  to-night ! 

[He  goes  determinedly  to  the  sofa  and  gets  her 
hat  and  cloak  for  her. 

BECKY.    [Takes  her  hat  from  him  and  puts  it 


182  THE    TRUTH 

on  the  centre-table    with   equal    determination.]   I 

shall  sleep  here,  in  this  room,  to-night! 

ROLAND.  You'll  sleep  in  a  Pullman  car  and 
wake  up  to-morrow,  happy  and  in  your  right 
senses,  in  Jersey  City. 

BECKY.  [Moves  back  from  him  a  little.]  You 
can't  turn  me  out ! 

[.4   pause.    ROLAND  reads  the  real  trouble  in 
her  face  and  becomes  serious  and  sympathetic. 

ROLAND.  Becky,  you  don't  really  believe  what 
you  say  about  Tom?  [She  lowers  her  head 
in  assent.]  You  know?  [She  lowers  her  head 
again.]  There  must  be  a  mistake  somewhere ! 
[Puts  the  cloak  on  the  Morris  chair.]  If  I  ever 
knew  a  man  who  loved  his  wife!  Go  back, 
Becky ! 

BECKY.   It's  impossible! 

ROLAND.   [Going  to  her.]  I  speak  to  you  with 


THE    TRUTH  183 

years  of  bitter  experience  behind  me,  and  it's 
only  what  good  there  is  left  in  me  which  is  urging 
me  to  say  this  to  you.  I  know  in  the  end  that 
you'll  be  nearer  happiness  than  you  ever  can  be 
any  other  way.  Go  back  to  Tom. 

BECKY.  No,  no,  I  tell  you,  father,  I've  left 
Tom  for  good !  Keep  me  with  you  — 

[.4  knock  on  the  door. 

ROLAND.   Come  in ! 

[MRS.   CRESPIGNY  comes  in  Left  and  BECKY 
sinks  down  into  the  Morris  chair. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Worried.]  It's  getting  pretty 
late !  I  didn't  know  as  Mis'  Warder  knew 
the  street  car  don't  run  past  here  after  twelve 
thirty. 

ROLAND.  That's  all  right.  Mrs.  Warder  is 
taking  the  one  o'clock  train  to  New  York.  We'U 
catch  the  last  car. 


1 84  THE    TRUTH 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Relieved,  smiles.]  Oh,  well, 
then,  you've  got  plenty  of  time.  I'd  better  let 
you  have' my  latch-key,  though.  I'll  leave  it  on 
the  hall  table.  [To  BECKY.]  Would  you  like 
anything?  A  glass  of  raspberry  vinegar  and  a 
piece  of  jell  cake? 

BECKY.   No,  thanks. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.    [Offended.]   Good  evening. 

BECKY.   Good  evening. 

[MRS.  CRESPIGNY  goes  out. 

Why  did  you  say  I  was  going?    I'm  not! 

ROLAND.  You  are.  If  you  love  Tom,  you'll 
go.  [He  goes  to  her  and  puts  his  arm  around  her 
shoulder.}  Do  you  love  Tom  still? 

BECKY.   Yes,  father. 

ROLAND.   Then  go  back,  Becky  1 

BECKY.  No. 

ROLAND.  Your  religion   teaches  you  that  the 


THE    TRUTH  185 

greatest  love  always  carries  with  it  the  power  of 
forgiveness. 

BECKY.  [Eagerly.]  Oh,  it's  what  I  want  to 
believe.  If  it's  only  true  —  if  it's  only  true  of  us/ 

ROLAND.  You've  got  to  make  it  true  by  going 
back !  [He  moves  away.]  Good  God !  you  shan't 
repeat  your  mother's  and  my  mistake  and  make 
a  miserable  failure  of  both  your  lives ! 

[BECKY  looks  up  surprised. 

BECKY.   What  mistake? 

ROLAND.  [Quietly,  ashamed.}  Your  mother  left 
me,  just  as  you  want  to  leave  Tom. 

BECKY.   Mother —  [Rises,]  left  you? 

ROLAND.  And  for  the  same  reason,  do  you 
understand  me  —  that  you  want  to  leave  Tom. 

BECKY.   But  you  never  told  me! 

ROLAND.  No. 

BECKY.   How  long  before  she  died? 


186  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.   A  year. 

BECKY.  And  how  long  were  you  and  mother 
happy  together? 

ROLAND.   A  few  months  —  not  many. 

BECKY.  Tom  and  I  have  been  blissfully  happy 
for  six  years ! 

ROLAND.  That's  an  argument  for  me!  Go 
back! 

BECKY.  What  a  lot  of  lies  you've  always  told 
me  about  yourself  and  mother,  —  all  my  life ! 
You  always  said  you  were  an  ideal  couple  and  that 
it  was  sorrow  over  her  death  that  made  you  what 
you  are! 

ROLAND.  I  was  ashamed  when  you  found  me 
out  —  I  wanted  some  excuse  to  try  and  keep  your 
sympathy  and  affection.  Besides,  what  good 
would  it  have  done  to  have  told  you  the  truth? 

[He  crosses  to  the  table  Lejt,  and  taking  up  a 


7 HE    TRUTH  187 

photograph    of   his   wife,    stands    looking  at 
it. 

BECKY.  If  you  had  always  told  me  the  truth 
about  everything,  I  think  it  would  have  saved  me 
this  night.  I've  about  decided  that  the  truth  in 
everything  is  the  best  for  everything  in  the  end  — 
if  one  could  only  learn  to  tell  it. 

ROLAND.  You  must  begin  young  and  you 
didn't. 

BECKY.  By  whose  fault?  [ROLAND  turns  away 
from  her,  feeling  the  sting.]  Tell  me  now  about 
you  and  mother. 

[She  sits  again  in  the  Morris  chair. 

ROLAND.    [By    the    centre-table.]     Well,     your 

mother   accused    me   as   you    do    Tom.     But    it 

wasn't  true  of  me,  Becky !   it  wasn't  true  —  then. 

BECKY.   I'm  afraid  I  don't  believe  you,  father. 

ROLAND.   You   don't   believe   me   when,   even 


1 88  THE    TRUTH 

now,  after  all  these  years,  I  tell  you  it  wasn't 
true? 

BECKY.  No.  I  want  to  believe  you,  father, 
but  I  can't!  You've  just  admitted  you've  lied 
to  me  all  my  life  about  you  and  mother!  Why 
should  I  believe  you  would  suddenly  turn  around 
and  tell  me  the  truth  now? 

ROLAND.  At  last,  one  trait  in  you  like  your 
mother!  Do  all  that  I  could,  swear  by  everything 
she  or  I  held  holy,  I  couldn't  persuade  her  I  was 
telling  the  truth ! 

BECKY.  Perhaps  you  had  already  destroyed  her 
confidence  in  you !  You  can  do  that,  even  with 
some  one  who  loves  you,  in  a  day,  in  an  hour, 
in  even  less! 

ROLAND.  It  did  look  ugly  against  me,  and 
your  mother  was  already  disappointed  in  me.  I 
couldn't  live  up  to  her  standard.  [He  smiles.] 


THE  TRUTH  189 

I  was  sort  of  good-looking,  when  she  married  me, 
—  too  foppish,  perhaps,  —  and  I  rode  my  own 
horses,  generally  to  win,  too,  —  and  what  part  of 
my  income  I  didn't  make  on  the  race-track  I  made 
with  the  ace  and  right  bower!  I  promised  your 
mother  to  give  up  the  gambling  side  of  it  —  but 
I  couldn't,  it  was  in  my  blood;  I  tried,  Becky, 
but  I  failed.  I  lied  to  her  about  it  and  she  found 
me  out  and  began  to  distrust  me.  She  was  a 
crank  on  the  subject  of  lying,  anyway.  One  of 
those  straightforward,  narrow-minded,  New  Eng 
land  women  who  think  everything  that  isn't  the 
truth  is  a  lie!  I  always  hated  the  plain  truth. 
I  liked  to  trim  it  up  a  little. 

BECKY.  [With  a  nervous,  pathetic  little  laugh.] 
Like  me ! 

ROLAND.  Yes.  I  remember  how  we  used  to. 
laugh  at  you  as  a  child !  Almost  the  first  words 


igo  THE    TRUTH 

you  spoke  were  fibs,  and  gad,  the  fairy  stories 

you  used  to  tell  about  yourself! 

[Goes  up  to  table. 

BECKY.  Yes.  Do  you  remember  the  time, 
father,  after  I'd  been  reading  Grimm's  Fairy 
Tales  about  the  wicked  step-parents,  how  I  told 
all  over  Baltimore  you  were  my  stepfather  and 
beat  me  ?  It  made  me  a  real  heroine,  to  the  other 
children,  and  I  loved  it!  And  you  found  it  out, 
and  gave  me  my  choice  of  being  punished  or 
promising  never  to  tell  another  story !  Do  you 
remember  ? 

ROLAND.  [Sils  on  the  arm  of  the  chair  and  puts 
his  arm  about  her.]  I  could  never  bear  to  punish 
you! 

BECKY.  I  always  made  up  stories  about  every 
thing.  I  didn't  see  any  harm  —  then  — 

ROLAND.   Well,  your  mother  said  I'd  proved 


THE    TRUTH  191 

I  couldn't  tell  the  truth!  She  didn't  often  use 
plain  and  ugly  words,  but  she  called  me  a  liar, 
and  I've  never  heard  the  word  since  without 
hearing  her  voice  and  seeing  her  face  as  she  said 
it! 

BECKY.  You  loved  her!  Oh,  I  know  how  it 
must  have  hurt ! 

ROLAND.  She  wouldn't  believe  me,  she  wouldn't 
forgive,- and  she  left  me!  I  don't  blame  her;  it 
was  my  own  fault  at  bottom !  But  it's  true  as 
land  and  water,  Becky,  as  true  as  you're  my 
daughter,  God  help  you,  and  that  I've  loved  you 
in  my  useless,  selfish  old  way,  I  was  true  to  your 
mother.  I  loved  her,  and  no  other  woman  existed 
for  me  then.  I  was  willing  to  own  up  I  had 
broken  my  word  and  was  a  gambler!  I  was 
willing  to  own  up  I  was  a  liar,  even,  and  perhaps 
I  deserved  all  I  got,  but  I  loved  your  mother, 


I92  THE    TRUTH 

and  when  she  went  back  on  me  and  believed  the 
one  thing  about  me  that  wasn't  true,  I  gritted 
my  teeth  like  a  damn  fool  and  said,  "To  hell 
with  women  and  to  the  dogs  for  me!" 

BECKY.  And  it  wasn't  true!  Father!  I  be 
lieve  you,  it  wasn't  true ! 

ROLAND.  No,  but  it  was  true  enough  soon 
after!  I  kept  my  word  to  myself  and  gave  her 
plenty  of  reasons  not  to  love  me  afterwards  — 
and  that  was  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  me. 

BECKY.  But  if  you'd  only  waited,  if  you'd 
only  given  her  a  chance,  wouldn't  she  have  real 
ized? 

ROLAND.  [Going  to  her,  puts  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder.]  Yes,  and  that's  why  you  must  go  back 
to  Tom  to-night.  Do  you  want  to  repeat  your 
mother's  and  my  story?  Go  back,  Becky! 

BECKY.   I  can't. 


THE    TRUTH  193 

ROLAND.  Well,  I  can  tell  you  what  Tom'll 
do  if  you  put  off  going  back  to  him  till  it's  too 
late.  He'll  let  you  go,  and  help  you  to  divorce 
him,  so  he  can  marry  some  other  woman,  your 
opposite,  and  be  happy  the  rest  of  his  life. 

BECKY.    Father ! 

[BECKY  shows  a  new  element,  jealousy,  added 
to  her  trouble. 

ROLAND.  Or  else  he'll  grow  hard  and  bitter 
about  all  women,  and  the  gold  years  of  a  man's 
life  will  be  brass  in  his  mouth  —  thanks  to 
you! 

BECKY.  Yes,  and  I'll  live  here  with  you  and 
grow  dowdy  and  slattern,  till  I'm  slovenly  all 
through  —  body  and  soul !  I  won't  care  how  I 
look  or  what  company  I  keep  in  place  of  the 
friends  who  will  surely  drop  me.  I'll  take  up  your 
life  here,  and  my  face'll  grow  flabby  and  my 

0 


•  194  THE    TRUTH 

heart  dry  and   my  spirit   fogged,  and   I'll   have 
nobody  to  thank  for  the  dead  end  but  myself! 

ROLAND.  But  I  won't  have  it!  You've  got 
to  go  back  to  Tom  to-night!  You  were  happy 
enough  with  him  this  afternoon !  He's  been  a 
wonderful  husband  to  you  and  I  know  the  run  of 
them !  I  don't  blame  him  for  not  wanting  me 
around,  —  a  father-in-law  who  was  a  disgrace 
to  his  wife.  He  did  right  to  keep  me  here  where 
I'm  an  old  story  and  nobody  cares.  I'll  own  up 
to  this  now  that  you  want  to  turn  your  back  on 
him.  But  you  shan't  do  it!  You  shan't  break 
up  his  home  with  a  beastly  scandal  and  spoil 
your  whole  life  and  perhaps  his,  all  in  one  hys 
terical  hour !  Listen !  [He  goes  to  her  and 
places  his  two  hands  on  her  shoulders.]  It's  true 
that  no  one  was  to  blame  for  what  I've  sunk  to 
but  myself.  Still,  it's  also  true  that  in  the  be- 


THE  TRUTH  195 

ginning,  perhaps,  a  great  deal  of  patience,  and 
more  forgiveness,  might  have  made  both  your 
mother's  life  and  mine  a  little  more  worth  living ! 

[He  turns  aside,  surprised  by  a  welling  up  0} 
an  almost  forgotten  emotion. 

BECKY.  You  don't  dream  how  every  word  you 
say  cuts  and  saws  into  me !  But  I  can't  go  back ! 

ROLAND.  You  will.  For  if  it  comes  down  to 
this  point,  I  won't  keep  you  here ! 

BECKY.  But  I  can't  go  to  a  hotel!  I  haven't 
any  money. 

ROLAND.  I  have  enough  for  your  ticket,  and 
I'll  take  you  to  the  station  and  send  a  telegram 
to  Tom  to  expect  you  in  the  morning. 

BECKY.  No,  I  can't  —  I  can't. 

ROLAND.  [Sternly.}  You've  got  to  I  You  can't 
stay  here  and  I  won't  give  you  a  cent  to  stay 
anywhere  else! 


196  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  You  wouldn't  turn  me  out  into  the 
streets ! 

ROLAND.  Yes,  I  will,  if  I  must  to  force  you  to 
go  back  to  your  husband. 

[He  gets  her  cloak. 

BECKY.   [Rises,  desperate.]  Father! 

ROLAND.   [Struck  by  her  lone,  pauses.]  Well? 

BECKY.  [Drops  her  head  and  with  a  great 
effort  speaks,  her  voice  sinking  almost  to  a  whisper.] 
I  haven't  left  Tom  —  it's  Tom's  left  me  — 

[A  pause.  ROLAND  stands  looking  at  her  and 
her  cloak  drops  from  his  hand,  as  he  slowly 
takes  in  what  she  means. 

ROLAND.   What  do  you  say? 

BECKY.  Tom  has  left  me  —  now  you  know 
why  I  can't  go  back. 

ROLAND.   What  for? 

BECKY.  He  called  me  what  mother  called  you. 


THE    TRUTH  197 

He's    lost    confidence    in     me.     He    believes  — • 
there's  some  one  else. 

[The  last  in  agony  of  shame  and  grief. 

ROLAND.  No  wonder  you  made  me  worm  out 
the  truth!  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  of  you, 
Becky !  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  of  you ! 

BECKY.    [Frightened.]   But  it  isn't  true,  father! 

ROLAND.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  the  right  story 
in  the  beginning? 

BECKY.  [Aghast.]  Father !  don't  you  believe 
me? 

ROLAND.  You  denied  it  to  him,  I  suppose? 

BECKY.   Of  course. 

ROLAND.   And  he  turned  you  out  all  the  same? 

BECKY.  He  didn't  turn  me  out;  he  only  refused 
to  stay  in  the  house  with  me.  I  came  away ! 

ROLAND.  Well,  if  your  husband  doesn't  be 
lieve  in  you,  how  can  you  expect  me  to,  who've 


198  THE    TRUTH 

known    all    your    life     you    couldn't    tell     the 

truth? 

BECKY.  Father,  I've  told  you  the  truth  now ! 
For  God's  sake,  believe  me,  for  if  you  won't  be 
lieve  me  either,  what  will  become  of  me  ? 

ROLAND.  I  can  help  you  better  if  you'll  be 
honest  with  me.  A  man  like  Tom  Warder  isn't 
putting  the  wife  he's  been  a  slave  to  out  of  his 
life  without  good  reason. 

[He  turns  away  from  her. 

BECKY.  You  said  you  knew  the  look  in  my 
face  when  I  lied,  because  it  was  your  look.  [Goes 
to  him  and  stands  close,  facing  him.]  Look  in 
my  face  now  and  tell  me  what  you  see  there. 
[She  speaks  very  simply  and  clearly.}  I  love  Tom 
and  only  Tom  and  never  have  loved  any  other 
man  and  have  never  been  anything  but  faithful 
and  true  in  my  love  for  him.  [ROLAND  stands 


THE    TRUTH  199 

silently  looking  into  her  /ace,  still  unconvinced.] 
I  stand  with  Tom  exactly,  father,  where  you  stood 
the  day  mother  left  you  — 

[His  face  begins  to  change.     A    knock  on  the 

door  Left, 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   [Outside.]  If    Mis'    Warder 
wants  to  catch  that  train,  I  hear  the  car  coming! 
BECKY.    [Breathlessly  seizing  hold  0}  him  with 
her  two  hands.}   Father! 

ROLAND.   Mrs.    Warder's    changed  her    mind. 
She's  stopping  here  to-night. 

[Putting  his  arms  about  her. 
BECKY.   Father ! 

[Her  tension  gives  way,  and  she  lies  limp  in 
his  arms,  her  slender  body  shaking  with  the 
emotion  which  now  masters  her  as 

THE   CURTAIN   FALLS 


ACT    IV 

Mr.  Roland's  rooms  'in  Mrs.  Crespigny's  flat,  the 
following  Monday. 


ACT  IV 

MR.  ROLAND'S  rooms  in  MRS.  CRESPIGNY'S  flat, 
the  following  Monday.  The  sun  pours  in 
through  the  bow-window;  folded  bedclothes  and 
a  pillow  are  placed  neatly  on  one  end  of  the  sofa. 
BECKY  and  ROLAND  are  having  coffee  together 
at  the  centre-table.  The  cloth  is  soiled,  other 
things  in  the  room  are  in  disorder,  and  everything 
is  decidedly  unappetizing.  ROLAND  is  wearing 
a  slovenly  bathrobe;  a  newspaper  is  propped 
against  the  coffee  pot  before  him. 

BECKY.    How  horrid  and  messy  everything  is! 

ROLAND.   [Who  is  smoking  a   cigarette  as   he 
203 


204  THE    TRUTH 

eats.]   Oh,    you'll    get   used    to    it.     Before   you 

know  it  you'll  like  things  best  this  way. 

BECKY.  Not  if  I  can  help  it.  I  shall  fight 
against  it. 

ROLAND.  You  think  so  now;  you've  only  had 
one  day  at  it. 

BECKY.  To  begin  with,  my  dear  father,  you 
mustn't  come  to  breakfast  with  me  in  that  dis 
gusting  bathrobe. 

ROLAND.  If  you  imagine  for  a  minute  I'm 
going  to  let  you  come  here  and  upset  everything 
to  rob  me  of  my  comfort,  you'll  have  your  hands 
full. 

[MRS.  CRESPIGNY  is  heard  playing  a  piano 
in  a  farther  room  through  most  of  the  scene. 
Her  repertoire  is  varied,  and  consists  of  an 
old  waltz,  a  coon  song,  the  "Melody  in  F"  and 
"Waiting  at  the  Church." 


THE    TRUTH  205 

BECKY.  [With  an  effort  at  a  smile.]  It  will  be 
another  fight  then,  father,  such  as  we  used  to 
have.  Only  this  time  I'm  stronger  by  six  years' 
life  with  a  splendid  character,  which  will  help  me 
bring  you  and  myself  up  to  Tom's  level,  rather 
than  go  down  with  you  to  this. 

ROLAND.  [To  change  the  subject.]  Have  you 
written  Tom? 

BECKY.  [Sighing.]  A  hundred  letters,  I  should 
think. 

ROLAND.  And  no  answer? 

BECKY.  No,  there  isn't  time. 

ROLAND.  Yes,  he  could  telegraph. 

BECKY.   But  I  didn't  send  any  of  the  letters. 

ROLAND.  [Looking  up  from  his  newspaper.] 
You  aren't  eating  anything. 

BECKY.  [Rising  in  disgust,  goes  and  sits  in 
Morris  chair.]  Father,  we  can't  live  here,  can  we? 


206  THE    TRUTH 

You   must  tell   Mrs.   Crespigny,   and  I'll   find  a 

little  flat,  just  for  us  two  — 

ROLAND.  [Irritably.]  I  knew  it  would  come 
to  that!  Not  satisfied  with  upsetting  Warder's 
existence  and  your  own,  you've  got  to  come  here 
and  upset  mine !  No,  sir !  I'll  marry  Mrs.  C. 
before  I'll  leave  here. 

BECKY.  That's  a  threat  I  know  you  won't 
carry  out.  I've  had  two  long,  long  nights  to 
think  things  over.  I  wish  I  could  die,  but  I 
know  one  can't  die  when  one  wants  to.  I  know 
sorrow,  however  heartbreaking,  doesn't  kill,  — 
and  I'm  so  horribly  healthy  I'll  probably  live 
forever.  I  may  even  have  to  stand  aside  and 
see  Tom  happy  with  some  one  else.  Well,  all 
the  same  I  mean  to  live  exactly  as  I  would  if  I 
were  still  with  Tom.  I'm  going  to  live  as  if  every 
day,  every  hour,  I  was  expecting  him  back.  I'm 


THE    TRUTH  207 

going  to  live  so  that  if  he  ever  should  come  back 
to  me  —  I  will  be  ready  to  go  home  with  him. 

[The  music  slops  for  a  moment. 
ROLAND.  That's  all  very  well  for  you,  but  I 
don't  see  why  I  should  have  to  live  a  life  to  please 
Tom  —  just  so  you  can  leave  me  in  the  lurch  when 
he  comes  back  after  you.  The  odds  are  pretty 
strong  against  his  wanting  me  to  go  home  with 
him  too!  I've  never  ridden  yet  according  to  his 
rules,  and  I  don't  intend  to  begin  now. 

[Goes  to  far  table  in  the  bout-window  and  takes 
a  fresh  cigarette  and  changes  his  paper  for 
another, 

BECKY.  [Rising,  takes  the  bedclothes  from  the 
sofa.]  Don't  forget,  father,  what  little  money 
we  have  is  mine,  so  you'll  have  to  live  as  I  wish. 
And  in  the  end  I  believe  you'll  thank  me. 

[She  goes  into 'the  bedroom. 


208  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.  But  in  the  beginning  I'll  damn  you, 
and  in  the  end  too!  I'm  too  old  a  leopard  to 
change  my  spots. 

[He  makes  himself  comfortable  in  the  Morris 
chair. 

BECKY.  [Coming  out  of  the  bedroom.}  I'm 
going  to  try  just  as  hard  as  I  can  not  to  tell  even 
little  lies,  no  matter  how  small,  just  to  see  if  I 
can't  get  into  the  habit  of  always  telling  the  truth. 
Because  he  might  come  back,  father,  don't  you 
think  so?  Don't  you  think  maybe  he'll  come 
back? 

ROLAND.  I'm  doing  my  best  to  make  him. 

BECKY.   [Surprised  and  eager.]  How? 

ROLAND.  Never  mind  how.  I'll  tell  you  if  it 
works. 

BECKY.  [Piling  the  breakfast  dishes  on  the 
tray.]  I  hoped  he'd  answer  the  note  I  sent  by 


THE    TRUTH  209 

Jenks,  but  he  didn't.  No;  when  Tom  says  a 
thing,  he  means  it.  I'm  going  out  for  a  little 
while. 

[She  places  the  tray  on  the  table  Left. 

ROLAND.  Where? 

BECKY.  There's  a  small  empty  flat  two  doors 
below  here;  I'm  going  to  look  it  over.  I  think 
it  may  do  for  us. 

[She  goes  into  the  bedroom. 

ROLAND.  Don't  be  gone  long,  because  I  might 
need  you. 

BECKY.   [In  the  bedroom.]  For  what? 

ROLAND.  To  help  receive  Tom! 

BECKY.   [Coming  out  quickly.]  Father! 

ROLAND.  Don't  get  your  expectations  too  high, 
but  I  telegraphed  him  yesterday  to  come  here. 

[The   piano  is   heard  again,   but  stops  during 

BECKY'S  long  speech. 
p 


2io  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  If  he  wouldn't  come  for  me,  he  wouldn't 
come  because  you  asked  him. 

ROLAND.  I  feel  if  only  you  could  get  face  to 
face  with  him,  Becky,  especially  now  when  he's 
had  time  to  think  things  over,  to  realize  calmly, 
away  from  the  heat  of  anger,  that  whatever  your 
faults  might  be  — 

BECKY.  [Interrupts  eagerly,  going  toward  him.} 
Yes,  yes  — 

ROLAND.  Lack  of  love  for  him  and  faithless 
ness  couldn't  be  among  them. 

BECKY.  Yes,  if  I  could  see  him!  [She  kneels 
on  the  floor  beside  him,  her  arms  on  the  arm  of 
the  chair.]  I  feel  that  if  there's  left  in  the  bottom 
of  his  heart  —  no  matter  how  deep  down  —  just 
a  little  love  for  me,  if  it's  only  the  memory  of 
what  he  once  had,  wouldn't  my  own  love  be  some 
sort  of  a  magnet  to  bring  his  back?  If  I  could 


TRUTH  211 

sit  and  talk  to  him,  hold  his  hand,  go  back  over 
our  life  a  little,  couldn't  I  make  him  see  that  I 
loved  him  —  and  only  him,  that  what  I'd 
done  had  been  foolish  —  wrong  not  to  do  as  he 
wished  —  but  only  that  wrong  —  and  that  I've 
learned  something  by  this  terrible  lesson?  And 
if  I  promised  to  try  with  all  my  might  and  main 
not  to  lie  any  more,  if  I  promised  I  wouldn't  be 
discouraged  with  failure  if  he  wouldn't  be,  but 
would  keep  on  trying,  wouldn't  he  on  his  side  try 
to  have  a  little  confidence  again?  Wouldn't  he 
let  me  come  back  into  his  life  just  for  that  trial 
anyway?  .  .  . 

ROLAND.  I  think  so.  A  man  like  Warder 
can't  get  over  loving  a  woman  all  in  a  moment, 
especially  if  he  finds  out  before  it's  too  late  he's 
misjudged  her.  Wrong  as  you  may  have  been, 
we  know  you're  not  so  wrong  as  he  thinks. 


212  THE    TRUTH 

BECKY.  But  he  won't  come.  You  see  you 
haven't  heard  from  him  —  he  won't  come. 

[She  goes  up  to  the  bow-window  and  looks  out. 

ROLAND.  I'm  a  little  worried  myself.  I  told 
him  to  telegraph  and  said  it  was  urgent. 

BECKY.   How  —  urgent  ? 

ROLAND.  Well,  my  dear,  as  you  say,  if  I  had 
simply  said,  "Come  and  see  Becky,"  of  course 
he  wouldn't  have  paid  any  attention.  I  had  to 
make  the  telegram  so  he  would  come. 

BECKY.  Yes,  but  how  did  you? 

ROLAND.  It  was  a  stroke  of  genius!  I  said, 
"Becky  is  dying.  Come  at  once!" 

BECKY.  [Going  to  the  sofa  and  sitting  on  it.] 
But  I'm  not  dying.  He'll  find  out  as  soon  as  he 
gets  here. 

ROLAND.  No,  he  mustn't.  My  idea  was  that 
he  would  think  you  had  tried  to  kill  yourself  — • 


THE    TRUTH  213 

don't  you  see  ?    It  would  rouse  his  sympathies  — 
perhaps  some  remorse  —  and  he  would  hurry  on. 

[Dropping  the  paper  carelessly  on  the  floor,  he 
rises. 

BECKY.   But  he  hasn't! 

ROLAND.  He  couldn't  get  here  till  this  morning; 
still,  I  ought  to  have  had  an  answer  to  the  tele 
gram. 

[He  goes  into  the  bedroom. 

BECKY.  [Rises  and  goes  toward  the  opening.] 
And  if  he  should  come? 

ROLAND.  [Coming  out  of  the  bedroom  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  without  the  bathrobe.}  Well,  you 
must  be  careful  not  to  give  me  away  till  you  are 
solid  with  him  again.  You  must  be  weak  and  ill 
—  just  getting  over  it  —  the  doctor's  saved  you! 
Anyway,  I  thought  that  might  bring  him. 

BECKY.   I  don't  like  it. 


214  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.  [Going  back  into  the  bedroom  offended.] 
I  did  my  best! 

BECKY.  But  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  would  be 
telling  Tom  a  lie  again. 

ROLAND.  Not  at  all.  I'm  telling  it.  And 
besides,  doesn't  the  end  justify  the  means? 

BECKY.  I  think  Tom'd  call  it  a  lie.  I  don't 
want  to  do  it! 

ROLAND.  Well,  if  he  comes  in  answer  to  my 
telegram,  you've  got  to  do  it ! 

BECKY.   No,  father,  I  won't! 

ROLAND.  Nonsense!  You  can't  get  out  of  it. 
And,  good  Heavens,  why  should  you,  if  it's  going 
to  give  you  back  what  you  want  and  prevent  a 
terrible  upheaval? 

[The  piano  is  heard  again. 

BECKY.  Well,  anyway,  he  hasn't  answered, 
so  perhaps  he  won't  come.  I'm  going  out. 


THE    TRUTH  215 

[Gets  her  hat  from  table  Left. 

ROLAND.  Don't  be  long  in  any  case.  He  might 
have  forgot  to  send  word,  or  not  have  time,  or 
even  have  suspected  something  and  not  answered 
purposely,  and  be  coming  all  the  same  on  this 
morning's  train  ! 

BECKY.  [Putting  on  her  hat.]  I'll  see  the  flat 
and  come  straight  back.  [She  starts  to  go,  stops 
and  turns  in  the  doorway.]  Thank  you,  father, 
for  trying  to  help  me.  If  he  only  will  come ! 

[She  goes  out  Left. 

ROLAND.  [Lighting  another  cigarette.]  Move 
into  another  flat !  To  live  with  everything  so 
filthy  clean  you  can't  be  easy  and  let  things  go ! 
Ta,  ta  to  the  bucket-shop,  and  never  a  cent  to  put 
on  anything  again !  Nothing  but  cleanth  and 
economy!  No,  no,  Stephen  Roland,  not  at  your 
age.  [He  stands  gazing  at  a  portrait  of  MRS.  CRES- 


2i6  THE    TRUTH 

PIGNY  on  the  Right  wall,  with  a  half-humorous 
expression  of  resignation,  then  crosses  to  the  electric 
bell  on  the  Left  -wall.]  Listen,  don't  you  hear 
wedding  bells?  [He  rings  the  bell.]  Do  you 
hear  them,  Stephen !  [He  rings  again.  The 
piano  off  stage  stops.]  Wedding  bells!  [He  turns 
and  walks  toward  the  portrait  again,  nodding  his 
head  definitely.  A  knock  on  the  door  Left.]  Come 
in  —  Jennie  I 

[MRS.  CRESPIGNY  comes  in. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   Did  you  ring? 

ROLAND.  I  believe  I  did. 

MRS.    CRESPIGNY.   What's    the    matter?    My 
piano-playing  disturb  Mis'  Warder? 

ROLAND.   Oh,  —  is  the  pianola  mended  ? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Yes.    The  man  said  I  worked 
the  pedals  too  emotionally. 

ROLAND.   I  wanted  to  see  you. 


THE    TRUTH  217 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Pulling  her  belt  down  and 
her  marcel  wave  out.}  Well,  I'm  visible ! 

ROLAND.   Mrs.  Crespigny,  I'm  in  trouble. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Going  to  him.]  Now  look 
here,  Mr.  Roland,  true  as  Gospel  I  can't  let  you 
have  another  cent,  not  before  the  first  of  the 
month.  Your  daughter's  here  now;  you've  got 
to  go  to  her. 

ROLAND.  Not  so  fast,  please !  It  isn't  money. 
At  least  that  isn't  this  moment's  trouble.  My 
daughter  and  her  husband  have  quarrelled. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  I  suspected  something  was 
wrong.  [She  starts,  aghast  and  angry  at  a  new 
idea  which  comes  to  her.]  She  don't  mean  to  come 
here  and  live? 

ROLAND.  No,  she  wants  to  take  me  away  to 
live  with  her. 

MRS.    CRESPIGNY.   Didn't    I    always    tell    you 


2i8  THE    TRUTH 

she'd  separate  us  if  she  could !  Now  show  your 
character!  I  guess  you're  your  own  boss,  ain't 
you?  You  won't  go,  Mr.  Roland? 

ROLAND.  But  you  see  if  they  don't  make  up 
their  quarrel,  my  allowance  stops  and  I  won't 
have  a  cent.  I'll  have  to  live  where  my  daughter 
wants  me. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Taking  from  the  bosom  of 
her  shirt-waist  a  second-hand  natural  rose  with  a 
wired  stem,  and  destitute  of  green  leaves,  she  twists 
the  wired  part  nervously  about.]  Why  ain't  one 
woman's  money  just  as  good  as  another's  for 
you  to  live  on  ? 

ROLAND.  Mrs.  Crespigny,  you've  come  straight 
to  the  point,  and  you've  come  pretty  bluntly, 
but  that's  just  as  well  in  view  of  the  poor  figure 
I  cut  in  the  matter. 

[He  turns  up  toward  the  centre-table  and  places 


THE  TRUTH  zig 

on  it  his  newspaper,  which  he  has  picked  up 
from  the  floor. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Why,  I  think,  considering 
your  age,  your  figger's  great ! 

ROLAND.  [Looking  at  her  despairingly.]  I  spoke 
figuratively !  Now  I'm  doing  my  best  to  bring 
about  a  reconciliation.  Of  course,  if  I  succeed, 
I  can  keep  on  living  here  just  as  usual  —  I'll  have 
my  allowance. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  But  if  you  don't  bring  about 
the  reconciliation?  .  .  . 

ROLAND.  Well,  in  that  case,  frankly,  I  should 
have  to  leave  you  or  marry  you! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Going  to  the  table.}  Look 
here,  Mr.  Roland,  I  want  this  in  black  and  white ! 
Are  you  proposing  to  me? 

ROLAND.   Well,  Mrs.  Crespigny,  in  a  way  — 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.    But  there's  a  string  to  it? 


220  THE    TRUTH 

ROLAND.  You  know  you  have  once  or  twice 
delicately  suggested  that  a  marriage  wouldn't 
be  altogether  disagreeable  to  you,  but  it's  a  poor 
bargain  for  you,  and  in  case  the  proposal  should 
ever  be  definitely  made,  I  want  to  be  sure  you 
know  what  you're  getting! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  I  guess  I  know  well  enough. 
I  ain't  lived  in  the  same  flat  with  you  for  four 
solid  years  without  finding  out  whether  or  not 
you  was  worth  it  to  me.  I  know  your  faults, 
Mr.  Roland,  but  they're  swell  faults. 

ROLAND.  [He  goes  to  the  table  in  the  window 
to  get  a  cigarette.]  Mrs.  Crespigny,  suppose  you 
keep  to  the  point,  which  is,  if  I  marry  —  if  you 
marry  me,  you  do  it  with  your  eyes  open.  I'm 
to  have  all  the  liberty  I've  ever  had.  None  of 
my  habits  are  to  be  interfered  with,  none  of  my 
ways  of  spending  money. 


THE    TRUTH  221 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  All  right.  I  know  I  won't 
be  marrying  a  hero,  but  I'll  be  getting  a  high- 
toned  name  and  the  company  I  want  for  keeps, 
for  if  once  we're  married,  your  daughter  nor  nobody 
else  won't  sneak  you  away  from  me,  and  you  can't 
get  nothing  in  this  world  for  nothing. 

[She  sits  Right  of  the  table  with  a  lugubrious 
expression  on  her  poor  powdered  face. 

ROLAND.  Very  well,  then,  [Coming  down  to  her.} 
if  there's  no  reconciliation  to-day,  we'll  consider 
it  settled  without  another  word. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  And  if  she  does  make  it  up 
with  her  husband? 

ROLAND.  We'll  let  that  stand  for  the  present. 
I  would  still  have  my  allowance  and  I  wouldn't 
have  to  leave  the  flat. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Then,  so  far  as  I'm  concerned, 


222  THE    TRUTH 

—  and  I  don't  make  no  bones  about  saying  it,  — 
I'd  rather  they  kep'  separate. 

ROLAND.  Don't  be  selfish !  I  think  you'll 
win  without  that.  [He  lifts  her  head  tenderly, 
smiling  sweetly;  then,  as  he  turns  away  from  her 
the  sweetness  fades,  and  he  looks  at  least  twenty 
years  older.  MRS.  CRESPIGNY,  happy  but  em 
barrassed,  tears  the  faded  rose  to  pieces  petal  by 
petal.]  I  don't  understand  it.  I  ought  to  have 
had  a  telegram  long  ago! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Starts  and  rises.]  A  tele 
gram!  My  stars!  this  telegram  came  before 
you  was  up  and  I  forgot  all  about  it. 

[Giving  him  a  telegram. 

ROLAND.  That  won't  do!  You'll  have  to  be 
more  thoughtful  than  that!  [Reading  the  tele 
gram.]  He's  coming !  He's  due  here  any  minute ! 


THE   TRUTH  223 

And  Beck  out!     Quick!   help  me  make  this  look 
like  a  sick  room. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   A  sick  room? 

ROLAND.  I'll  put  this  chair  here  for  Becky  to 
sit  in ! 

[Moving  the  Morris  chair  near  to  the  table? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  And  I'll  put  a  towel  on  the 
table.  [Getting  one  from  the  bedroom.}  But  why 
a  sick  room.  Mr.  Roland !  Who's  sick  ? 

ROLAND.  That's  how  I  got  him  here.  Tele 
graphed  Becky  was  dying  —  and  it's  worked  — 
he's  coming! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  You  ought  to  have  some 
bottles  for  medicine ! 

ROLAND.   Bottles?    Here's  a  couple! 

[Getting  a  whiskey  bottle  and  a   brandy  bottle 
from  the  sideboard. 

MRS.     CRESPIGNY.   [Taking    the    bottles    from 


224  THE    TRUTH 

him,]  You  don't  want  him  to  think  she's  been  on 
a  spree,  do  you  ?  [She  puts  them  on  the  table  Left.] 
Put  a  glass  of  water  on  the  table.  [He  gels  a  glass 
from  the  sideboard.]  And  I'll  put  this  saucer  and 
spoon  on  top  —  that'll  look  like  homeopathic  stuff. 
[She  places  a  saucer  on  the  table  and  breathes  on 
the  spoon  and  polishes  it  on  a  corner  o)  table-cloth. 
ROLAND  gets  a  pillow  and  a  blanket  from  the  bed 
room  and  arranges  them  in  the  Morris  chair.]  Do 
you  know  what  we  ought  to  have  on  that  table? 
An  orange  on  a  plate !  I  don't  know  why  it  is, 
but  it  always  looks  like  sick  folks,  having  an 
orange  on  a  plate  by  'em!  Wait  a  minute.  I've 
got  a  marble  orange  just  like  real.  I'll  get  it. 
I'll  take  the  tray.  [MRS.  CRESPIGNY  with  the  tray 
at  the  door  Left.]  Josephine !  Josephine !  Oh, 
never  mind  if  your  hands  are  in  the  suds !  [Ro- 
LAND  gets  a  hassock,  which  he  places  in  front  of 


THE    TRUTH  225 

the  Morris  chair.  He  pulls  down  the  window-shades, 
takes  the  siphon,  and  fills  the  glass  on  the  table, 
putting  the  saucer  and  spoon  on  top  0}  it.  MRS. 
CRESPIGNY  enters  with  an  imitation  orange  on 
a  plate.]  Here  it  is!  And  I  brought  a  knife  with 
it  —  don't  it  look  natural  ? 

[The  front  bell  rings. 
ROLAND.   Becky ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   No  —  I  let  her  take  the  key ! 

ROLAND.  Maybe  it's  he!  And  Becky  not 
back  !  Don't  let  Josephine  open  the  door  yet ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Opens  the  Left  door  and 
calls.]  Josephine!  Josy!  I'll  tend  door;  you  go 

on  with  your  washing! 

[She  shuts  the  door. 

ROLAND.  Show  him  here  — 
MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Huh,  huh? 
ROLAND.  And  I'll  tell  him  the  doctor's  with 
Becky  — 


226  THE    TRUTH 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Huh,  huh? 

ROLAND.  Then  you  watch  for  her,  and  when 
she  comes,  knock  on  the  door  and  tell  me  the 
doctor's  gone  — 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   [Doubtfully.]   Huh,  huh  — 

ROLAND.  Then-  I'll  go  "  to  find  out  if  she  feels 
able  to  see  him,"  and  bring  her  in  as  if  from  her 
bedroom. 

[He  goes  to  the  Morris  chair  and  arranges  the 
pillow  and  blanket. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  It's  lucky  I  don't  have  to 
tell  him  all  that!  You  know,  I  haven't  got  your 
—  imagination!  .  .  . 

ROLAND.  That's  all  right  —  you'll  see,  —  they'll 
be  reconciled ! 

[Gets  a  fan  from  behind  the  book-rack  on  the  back 
wall  and  puts  it  on  the  table. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   Reconciled! 


THE    TRUTH  227 

ROLAND.   Yes,  yes,  they'll  be  reconciled! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Our  marriage  is  as  good  as 
off  then ! 

ROLAND.  Yes,  yes  —  I  mean  we'll  see !  [ The 
front  bell  rings  again.}  Don't  keep  him  waiting  — 
he  might  get  suspicious! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Turning  the  matter  over 
in  her  mind,  speaks  very  abstractedly.}  Our  mar 
riage  is  as  good  as  off  then ! 

[She  goes  out  slowly,  weighing  this  sudden  com 
plication  in  her  affairs. 

ROLAND.  Well,  you  never  know  your  luck !  No, 
no,  don't  close  the  doorl  I'll  be  here,  expecting 
him. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Off  stage.}  How  do  you  do? 
Won't  you  come  right  in? 

[WARDER  enters, 

ROLAND.   So  you've  come,  Tom? 


228  THE    TRUTH 

WARDER.   [Very  serious.]  How  is  she,  father? 

ROLAND.  The  doctor  is  with  her  now.  Mrs. 
Crespigny  will  let  me  know  when  he's  gone.  I 
haven't  let  her  know  I  telegraphed  you. 

WARDER.  But  will  she  get  well?  Is  she  no 
worse? 

ROLAND.  We  have  every  hope  of  her  getting 
well. 

WARDER.  [He  turns  aside  to  control  a  sudden 
flood  0}  emotion.}  Thank  God  ! 

ROLAND.  I  think  a  good  deal  now  depends 
upon  you.  [WARDER  faces  ROLAND.  ROLAND 
goes  to  him.]  Are  you  ready  to  take  my  daughter 
back? 

WARDER.   [Very  quietly,  soberly.}  Yes. 

ROLAND.   For  good? 

WARDER.  If  I  can  only  feel  sure  Becky  will 
try  —  only  try  —  to  be  straightforward  and  honest 


THE    TRUTH  229 

with  me,  that's  all  I  ask.  God  knows  what  I've 
suffered  these  two  days,  and  when  your  message 
came  —  oh,  to  have  that  on  my  shoulders  too  — 
it  would  have  been  more  than  a  man  could  bear ! 

ROLAND.  Whatever  Becky's  faults  may  have 
been,  you  did  her  one  terrible  injustice! 

WARDER.  Yes,  I  know  that  now !  Becky, 
—  never !  Father,  hour  after  hour  since  the  one 
in  which  I  left  her,  I've  paced  up  and  down  my 
room,  or  sat  and  gritted  my  teeth  in  the  train,  and 
thought  —  and  thought  —  and  thought  —  till  the 
anger  died  out  of  me  and  I  began  to  see  things 
white  and  clear  both  ahead  and  behind  me.  And 
all  the  time  Becky's  final  words  kept  ringing  in 
my  ears,  and  they  rang  true:  "I  love  you,  and 
only  you,  and  you  always."  .  .  .  And  the  further 
away  from  the  excitement  and  anger  I  got,  the 
saner  I  grew.  And  as  I  passed  over  our  life  to- 


230  THE    TRUTH 

gether,  second  by  second  of  happiness,  I  found  only 
proof  after  proof  of  her  love  for  me !  Yes,  I  did 
Becky  one  great  injustice,  and  I  want  to  ask  her 
to  forgive  me. 

ROLAND.  [His  belter  self  moved.  Takes  TOM'S 
hand.}  Tom  — 

WARDER.  After  all,  life  is  made  up  of  com 
promises  and  concessions,  and  if  Becky  will  only 
try,  and  let  me  help  her  — 

ROLAND.  I  believe  you  love  her  still? 

WARDER.  I  can  only  answer  you  by  saying  that 
I  want  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world  to 
believe  in  her  again  —  to  have  at  least  the  begin 
ning  of  confidence. 

[With  a  knock  on  the  door,  MRS.  CRESPIGNY 
comes  in,  jrightened  at  what  she  is  going  to  do. 
ROLAND  hesitates  one  moment,  but  his  old 
habit  soon  reasserts  itself. 


THE    TRUTH  231 

ROLAND.  The  doctor  gone?  [MRS.  CRES- 
PIGNY  nods  her  head.]  Excuse  me. 

[He  hurries  out  Left.  MRS.  CRESPIGNY  stands 
looking  after  ROLAND,  evidently  trying  to 
nerve  herself  tip  to  the  task  0}  telling  WARDER 
the  truth.  She  makes  several  ineffectual  gasp 
ing  efforts  to  speak,  and  finally  gets  started, 
rushing  her  words  and  not  daring  to  speak 
slowly  for  fear  she'd  stop. 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  I'm  going  to  do  something 
awful,  and  I  only  hope  I  won't  be  punished  for  it 
all  the  rest  of  my  life.  Lord  knows,  seems  as  if  I'd 
been  punished  enough  in  advance.  Can  I  trust 
you? 

WARDER.  In  what  way? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  As  a  gentleman.  If  I  tell 
you  something  —  something  that  you  ought  to 


232  THE    TRUTH 

know  —  will  you  promise  to  see  it  through  and 

not  let  on  I  told  you? 

WARDER.  I  don't  know  if  I  can  promise  that. 
Is  it  anything  you  have  a  right  to  tell  me  ? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  [Going  toward  him.]  It  won't 
do  you  no  harm  to  pertect  me,  and  I  give  you  my 
sacred  word  of  honor  it's  the  truth  instead  of  the  lie 
you've  been  told !  And  all  I  ask  is  that  you'll  per 
tect  me  as  regards  Mr.  Roland. 

WARDER.  [Astounded,  bewildered,  but  his  sus 
picions  rearroused.]  What  lie  ?  Go  on.  I  give  you 
the  promise ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   [Whispers.]  She  ain't  sick! 

WARDER.   Who? 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Mis'  Warder!  She  ain't 
been  sick  —  that  was  all  a  story  to  get  you 
herel 

WARDER.   [Catching  her  two  hands  by  the  wrists 


THE    TRUTH  233 

and,  holding  them  light,  so  she  can't  get  away  from 
him.]   No  !    don't  say  that ! 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.  Ssh !  I  will  say  it !  It's  true ! 
The  doctor  wasn't  here  when  you  came !  Mis' 
Warder  was  out  and  only  came  in  when  I  knocked 
on  the  door  just  now ! 

WARDER.   Do  you  realize  what  you're  saying? 
MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   Perfeckly! 
WARDER.   And  you're  telling  me  the  truth? 
MRS.    CRESPIGNY.   Keep  your  eyes  open   and 
judge  for  yourself,  that's  all!     Maybe  you  think 
that's  the  truth ! 

[Snatching  up  the  imitation  orange  from  the 
table,  she  smashes  it  on  the  floor.  WARDER 
moves  to  go;  she  stands  in  front  of  the  door  to 
stop  him. 

WARDER.  Let  me  go!  I  won't  stay  for  this 
brutal  farce ! 


234  THE    TRUTH 

MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   You  promised  to  pertect  me, 
and  if  you  go  now  Mr.  Roland'll  catch  on,  and  I 
want  him  to  marry  me !     Now  you  know  — 
WARDER.  Was  this  his  idea  or  hers? 
MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   His,  and  she  — 

[Listens. 

WARDER.   [Eagerly.]   She  what  — 
MRS.  CRESPIGNY.   [Moving  away  from  the  door.] 
Ssh !    they're  here ! 

[WARDER  controls  himself  and  goes  to  the  other 
side  of  the  room.     ROLAND   conies,  bringing 
BECKY,  who  leans  on  him.     Her  eyes  are  down. 
WARDER  stands  immovable  and  watches. 
ROLAND.    [Pointedly.]  Thank  you,  Mrs.   Cres- 
pigny. 

[She  goes  out  unwillingly.  BECKY  looks  up  and 
sees  WARDER.  He  stands  motionless,  watch 
ing  her. 


THE    TRUTH  235 

BECKY.  [As  she  meets  WARDER'S  eyes,  breaks 
away  from  ROLAND.]  No,  father !  I  can't  do  it ! 
I  won't  do  it! 

ROLAND.   [Frightened.]   Becky! 

BECKY.  No !  I  tell  you  it's  only  another  lie  and 
a  revolting  one! 

ROLAND.  You're  ill!  You  don't  know  what 
you're  saying! 

BECKY.  No,  I'm  not  ill,  and  you  know  it,  and  I 
haven't  been  !  And  if  I  can't  win  his  love  back  by 
the  truth,  I'll  never  be  able  to  keep  it,  so  what's 
the  use  of  getting  it  back  at  all  ? 

[The  tears  fill  her  eyes  and  her  throat. 

WARDER.  Becky! 

[He  wants  to  go  to  her,  but  still  holds  himself 
back.  His  face  shows  his  joy,  but  neither 
BECKY  nor  ROLAND  see  this. 

BECKY.    [Continues  a/ter  a  moment,  pathetically.] 


236  THE    TRUTH 

I  thought  I  might  creep  back,  through  pity,  first 
into  your  life,  and  then  into  your  heart  again.    But, 
after  all,  I  can't  do  it.    [She  sits  in  the  Morris 
chair,    hopelessly.]   Something's  happened    to  me 
in  these  two  days  —  even  if  I  tell  lies,  I've  learned 
to  loathe  them  and  be  afraid  of  them,  and  all  the 
rest  of  my  life  I'll  try  — 
WARDER.   [In  a  choked  voice.]  Thank  God ! 
[He  goes  to  her,  almost  in  tears  himself.    RO 
LAND  looks  at  WARDER,  and  realizes  what  it 
means;   a  smile  comes  over  his  own  face,  and 
at  the  same  time  his  eyes  fill  with  his  almost- 
forgotten  tears. 

BECKY.  You  can't  forgive  me! 

i 
WARDER.  We  don't  love  people  because  they 

are  perfect. 

[He  takes  her  two  trembling  hands  in  his,  and 
she  rises. 


THE    TRUTH  237 

BECKY.  Tom! 

WARDER.  We  love  them  because  they  are  them 
selves. 

[And  he  takes  her  in  his  arms  close  to  him,  as  the 
final 

CURTAIN  FALLS 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  (tamped  below. 


>CT  3     1968 

I         8-19I 
APR  3 


4 -1961 

?' 


10M-M-50  2355  470          REMINBTON  RAND  INC.  20 


AA      000  037416 


